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BY TWO BROTHERS 



WITH INTRODUCTION BY 

W. A. QUAYLE, D. D., PH. D. 



J. M. CAYANESS AND SON 


PRINTERS 
CHETOPA, KANSAS 












fS 

cr 


Copyright. 189d. by 
J. M. Cavaness and Son. 



INTRODUCTION. 


jpHE poet is he who presses the rarest juices 
from the cluster of life. He is eye. ear. 
voice. What he sees and hears, he tells; and 
hearing and vision are alert and keen. Noth¬ 
ing eludes the greatest poet. No vision pass¬ 
es so swiftly that he does not see the radiancy 
of the passing form. No voice so inaudible as 
to be accounted silence. And as long as life 
lives or passion has its unrest, tempest and 
tragedy, or thought aspires and will not die. 
or love meditates and accomplishes the heroic, 
not even guessing at its name—so long our 
poet will be the needed brother of the world. 



IV 


INTRODUCTION. 


He is the prophet of the beautiful, but like¬ 
wise the prophet of the heart, else verse would 
degenerate into form, lacking depth and 
height. Life must have its unsounded deeps 
in which we forever sink plummet; and our 
failure to fathom such seas wakes poet and 
prophet. The poet then can never die. Gray 
hills that watch the sunrise are not so immor¬ 
tal. He will sit at the prow of the boat in 
which we sail and peer into the fogs, and, at 
rare moments, through them. Each new poet 
is a valid argument to prove that life’s mys¬ 
tery, nobility and majesty are hot exhausted. 
How glad then ought we to be for each new 
singer! When Shakespeare and Browning 
have grown silent the silence still needs a 
voice. This is the pregnant meaning of poe¬ 
try; and in this volume is no new harp, but 
rather new music. The harp held by a Homer 
is good for perpetual using. 

This is a Kansas volume and none the worse 
for that, but rather the better. Heroic do¬ 
ings of our earlier day need, and must find, 
expression. These brothers belong to Kan¬ 
sas. One is an alumnus of Baker University, 
and was a member of the first class graduat¬ 
ing from a College of Arts in Kansas; the 


INTRODUCTION. 


V 


other, in battles for liberty received as herit¬ 
age a life long ministry of suffering. Withal. 
“ no fitter voice ” to speak for Kansas, past 
and present. Knowing as I do the men whose 
verse is writ herein, accentuates my pleasure 
in these lyrics. Pure, manly, cultivated, 
brave, they are choice spirits whose converse 
does one good like views of mountains and of 
seas. 

Some of these stanzas have all the indefina¬ 
ble flavor inseparable from genuine poetry. 
Reading, we are spurred to do, to dream, and 
to aspire. It- is a satisfaction to me to know 
that these verses, many of which I have read 
as fugitives, are to find a shelter and a home. 
There is a fitness in this collection; and it is 
a pleasant thought that he who writes these 
lines may claim some little credit for the 
book, in that he urged through many days 
the gathering of these arrows of song and 
putting them into a quiver. 


W. A. QUAYLE. 




CONTENTS 


A. A. B. CAVANESS 

The Flags. 

Sherman’s March to the Sea 

The Dash on Van Buren_ 

The Veteran Volunteer. 

Memorial Day. 

December 7th. 

Memorial Day Pictures. 

In Memoriam. 

America. 

July Fourth . 

Kings. 

Columbia. 

Kansas—1879 . 

Address to Settlers. 

Kansas—1889. 

The Farmer. 

Ulysses . 

William Tecumseli Sherman 

Walt Whitman. 

Werter Renick Davis, D. D. 


PAGE 

5 

6 
13 
17 
19 
21 
22 

23 

24 

25 

27 

28 
31 
33 

38 

39 

43 

44 

45 
48 























Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


A. A. B. CAVANESS page 

Fanny. 40 

In Egypt—Illinois. 48 

To the Aelioians. SO 

When Shadows Fall. SO 

Cora. 

Lizzie. 

To a Poet. S3 

Marguerite. S3 

Josephine. S4 

Verse Forms. ST 

Undertones . ST 

Love. S8 

Friendship . 58 

Perdita. 00 

Celeste . 01 

Mabel. 01 

Fatima . 02 

A Baker Maid. 03 

Spring.. 03 

Song. . 04 

Song.. 05 

Life. 00 

Pre-Existence. 0T 

Re-Existence. GT 

Dead . 08 

Rondeau. 09 

Idalia. TO 

Baker University. T3 

From Reunion Address. T4 

Maples. T8 

Two. T9 

Corsican. 

American . 

Law. 80 

Law and Fate. 82 





































CONTENTS. 


IX 


A. A. B. CAVANESS page 

Occidens. 84 

Ines Returned. 85 

From “Romance of Japan”. 87 

The Hills of Arkansas. 90 

The Fan. 92 

Sixteen. 93 

Enigma. 94 

Quatrains. 95 


James H. Lane_ 

John Brown. 

Soldiers. I, II, III 

Life. 

Poetry, I. II. Ill . 


Gertrude. 97 

Dorothy. 97 

Awake. 98 

The Dying Year. 99 

“No More Sea”. 100 


J. M. CAVANESS 

Consider the Lilies. 

My Son, Give Me Thine Heart.... 

Out of the Depths. 

Behold, He Standeth at the Door 

Resignation. 

Guide Me. 

Lean Hard, My Child. 

The Hour of Prayer. 

I am the Lord’s. 

When My Spirit Once is Free. 

Another Day. 

Abide in Me. 

Morn by Morn. 

Life’s Sea. 

Christ All and in All. 


o 


9 

10 

12 


14 

16 

17 


19 


21 


22 


24 

25 

27 

28 
30 



































X 


CONTENTS. 


J. M. CAVANESS 

Look up. Lift up. 

Dedicatory Hymns. 

Sometime. 

Every Year. 

Lydia. 

What Are the Winds Saying? 

Birth of the Bose. 

In the Shadow. 

The Whistling Engineer. 

The Old Front Gate. 

’Tis but a Shell. 

The Sweet Girl Graduate.... 

Whence and How. 

A Song. 

To My Beloved .. 

The Year is Old. 

Susan M. Bedell. 

Rev. and Mrs. H. M’Birney.. 

Dr. and Mrs. F. Iv. Ream. 

Rev. W. W. Curnutt. 

John H. Dersham. 

Ruth Durboraw. 

Jerome J. Lowdermilk. 

John Alexander Lough. 

Kathleen M’Birney. 

Preston B. Plumb . 

Prof. T. A. Jeffers. 

Isabel. 

Adda and Lottie. 

Origin of Fashions. 

Keep a Stiff Upper Lip. 

La Grippe. 

Tell Me, Ye Kansas Winds . 

The Editor’s Chair. 

I Knew It Would Rain. 


PAGE 

31 


33 


37 

38 


40 

43 

44 

46 

47 

48 
54 
51 

54 

55 

56 

57 
61 
62 
64 
66 
67 


68 

69 

70 

72 

73 

74 

75 

76 


79 

84 

86 

88 

90 

91 





































CONTENTS. 


XI 


J. M. CAVANESS page 

Cause and Effect. 92 

Faith, Hope, Love. 95 

The Brotherhood of Man. 96 

Soldier’s Reunion Greeting. 98 

The Two Pictures. 99 

The Soul’s Question. 101 

Bereaved. 105 

Ye Did it unto Me... 106 

I Thank Thee. O My Father. 108 



















A. A. B. CAVANESS. 






JOHN PERCIYAL HARRIS. 


COMRADE IN THOSE INEXPRESSIBLE DAYS 
WHOSE LIGHT AND HEAT, INTENSIFIED BY THE 
FAITH AND FIRE OF YOUTH, UNFOLDED THE 
ROSEBUD OF LIBERTY—TO YOU, AND 
THE U BOYS” WHO ENCIRCLED 
OUR U TABLE ROUND,” MY PAGES 
HEREIN ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 


A. A. B. C. 



WAR AND PATRIOTISM. 






THE FLAGS. 


0UR flag had meaning theirs bad not— 
The story of our country’s youth, 
Our fathers’ struggle after truth, 

Our fathers’ battle halfway fought. 

Where love’s the core of loyalty, 

And faith to valor lends an arm, 

The fiercest foe may not alarm, 

If spot upon his flag there be. 

Not from a staff that rose on chains 
Fluttered our flag to heaven in prayer ; 
Nol mocking cries that rent the air, 

It floated over southern plains. 

Union huzza and rebel yell 
Were inspirations to the soul 
From stars, apart as pole from pole, 
And as one rose the other fell. 

Ah ! symbol of our country’s pride, 

Thou hadst a secret in thy gleam— 

The sweetest ultimate human dream, 
For which earth’s noblest men have died ! 

Therefore it could not else but be ; 

Who Freedom fights himself must fall ; 
For from his soul he may not call 
Divinest powers ’gainst Liberty. 


6 


sherman’s march to the sea. 


SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. 


Tf EL wild rang the shout, and yet wilder the cheer 
That rose from the legions of Sherman’s brave men, 

As southward they turned from Atlanta’s grim walls, 

As seaward they marched at the call of the drum. 

The blood of their comrades had crimsoned the rocks 
Of the dark Mission Ridge and of hoary Lookout 
When tempests of fire from their cloud-piercing tops 
In fury swept down—They went up with a shout. 

On many a field from the plain of Shiloh 
Responsive to music of sweetest acclaim, 

O'er swamp and bayou—by the river's dark flow, 

Bright through their torn banners fell the sunlight of fame. 
Like the mighty king Charles and victorious Swedes 
They swept over bastion and sharp palisade,— 

What Homer shall sing of their heroic deeds, 

What Tennyson tell of the charges they made— 

Pay a tribute of song—weave a coronal wreath 
In memory of those who now slumber in death— 

For the brave who lie low, and who fell while they strove 
For Freedom and Right and the land of their love ? 

In the forests and swamps where the poison vines creep, 
Where the violets bloom in the valleys, they sleep; 


Sherman's march to the sea. 


And anthems of cypress are wedded to rhyme, 

Recounting forever their story sublime, 

O'er the graves of our heroes—unmarked and alone, 

Till at last resurrection shall summon its own. 

Peace be to their ashes -and peace to their souls, 

While their names and their deeds shall illumine the scrolls 
Of our own loved Columbia forever 'twill be 
“The land of the brave and the home of the free.” 

But again let us turn to the conquering throng 
Who seaward and southward are moving along. 

There far to the front see the white smoke arise 
And grow black as it hangs like a pall in the skies. 

Now hear the shrill bugle—loud sounding—“To horse ! ” 
Quick ! mount and away, to the heroes of Corse, 

Where on the dark mountain in fiercest of wars, 

They pour out their lives for the banner of stars. 

Allatoona is won and the chivalry fled, 

And the boys of the west left to bury their dead; 

Now over the mountain and battle-field’s sod 
Bold Sherman led on and right proudly they trod; 

All joyous their hopes and all dauntless their hearts, 

As the eyes of the world are beholding their way, 

And onward o’er river and through the dark swamp 
Disdainful they march toward the thundering sea; 

Thus day after day and the Autumn’s red sun 
Looks down upon carnage and victories won; 

And insatiate Mars from his chariot high 


8 


siierman’s march to the sea. 


Looks down on the fields where his noble sons die, 

And those children of toil—the base sport of the lash, 
From the darkness look out on the battle’s red flash; 

They see in the clouds which o’ershadow the land 
That vengeance is come, and redemption’s at hand. 

And slumbering manhood awakes in their veins— 

It thrills them to daring—they sunder their chains— 

With the mighty vanguard—with the host of the free— 
’Neath the banner of glory, they march to the sea. 

And thus ’tis each day over Georgia’s plains 
While the bands and the bugles commingle refrains, 

Till darkness has folded the wings of the breeze, 

And silence and mystery brood in the trees; 

And in tenderly sweet and fantastical dreams — 

Fond souls steal away through the moon’s silver beams; 
With a dance of sweet fairies, they airily glide 
To the haunts of their youth on the verdant hill-side, 

To their homes far away on the snow covered hills, 

And their homes in the valleys by crystalline rills, 

Where susceptible boyhood in life’s early day 
Had crowned the heart’s queen with the flowrets of May; 
Where morning and evening had gazed into eyes 
As pure and serene as the blue of the skies. 

So blue,—and yet cruel—for many a dart 
Flashed out Horn their azure and wounded a heart. 

Oh, the Days of the Past—oh, the Days of our Youth! 
Ye were happy and bright—ye were lovely as truth. 

And deep in our hearts from the world’s chilling streams 
Ye can only come back in bright, beautiful dreams, 


SHERMAN’S MARCH TO THE SEA. 


9 


When the gleaming stars burn in the azure above, 

Does the sad soul return-to its sweet dreams of love; 

And uncovered and bare in the midnight’s cold dew, 

We see them dissolve—the fond dreams of the true. 

And so sleeps the soldier, until the red morn 
In shadows and waves from its orient home 
Breaks forth in rich crimson and gorgeously burns 
On the hilltops which lately were shrouded in gloom. 

Now the stirring reveille with clarion tongue 
Bursts forth and re-echoes the mountains among; 

Up rises the sun in the glorious East 

And up rise the sons of the North and the West. 

In a cycle sublime he sweeps on in his flight. 

Majestic, resistless, they move in their might. 

Now tremble Rebellion—now Cruelty pale! 

Your traitorous winds have repeated the wail 
And the cry of your victims—the dying appeal 
From the starved and the tortured in Andersonville. 

Oh, oh, in your hours of ambition and hate, 

How recked ye not then of your terrible fate, 

When the cord of your fortunes, all worn to a thread, 
Should be severed in twain, and your hopes should lie dead; 
Why dreamed ye not then the avenger must come, 

Nor heard in affright the dread roll of his drum; 

With clash of bright sabres and bayonets’ gleam, 

He sweeps your savannahs while fondly you dream. 

Dare not to oppose the avalanche of the Free, 


10 


sherman’s march to the sea. 


Or surely ’twill crush you as it rolls to the sea. 

Go, hide your red hands from the light of the sun, 

Conceal from your children the deeds you have done, 

Go, cover the bones that now bleach on the sod. 

And with prayers and with tears stay the wrath of your God. 
Oh, land of the sunshine and flowery dell, 

Where the gallant Pulaski and stern Baron fell! 

How could you forget—how dishonor their name, 

How darken your pages with treason’s foul shame? 

Your valorous sires taught a lesson divine, 

And crimsomed with glory sweet Liberty’s shrine; 

With honor and fortune, with life and with sword 
They pledged them to stand by great Jefferson’s word; 

And the flag of their love and of great Bunker Hill 
Is coming in beauty to wave o’er jmu still. 

Now o’er the Ogeechee, o’er mountain and lea, 

Soars Columbia’s eagle in flight to the sea. 

Athwart the red sky, see, he pierces the cloud. 

He sweeps like a conqueror—his pinions are proud; 

And there in the distance—behold them with me! 

Float Columbia’s stars on the waves of the sea! 

Oh, the wild throbbing hearts! oh the thrilling, mad joy, 

To hear the hoarse waves as they lash and they roai% 

White crested and foaming, and dashing the spray, 

In wild bounding billows ’gainst the rock-girded shore, 

How the heart of each veteran leaps out in a cheer, 

How falls from his eyelid the glistening tear, 


Sherman’s march to tiie sea. 


11 


As be sees the white ships afar off on the tide, 

And the Stars and the Stripes streaming forth in their pride. 

As in days long ago when the crusaders old, 

All weary with marching from far they behold 
The beautiful city, its temples and spires, 

Still reflecting the glory of Judea’s sires; 

How they laugh and they weep and embrace the green earth, 
And mingle their prayers with their tears and their mirth, 
Till vengeance awakes them—they glance o’er the plain, 

And fired is the heart and maddened the brain. 

From the raptures of joy to the transports of rage, 
Unsheathed are their sabres to crimson a page 
On history’s dark annals—to strike from the hand 
Of the infidel despot the beautiful land. 

So now each scarred hero in Freedom’s crusade 
To fierce anger returns, and unsheathes his bright blade, 

As his quick eye beholds, flaunting boastful and high, 

The ensign of black Treason in Liberty’s sky. 

Twixt the stars of the land and the stars of the sea, 

Now the last forlorn hope in the path of the Free, 

Stands frowning McAllister—black guns from redoubt, 

In tones of deep thunder defiance ring out. 

But the soldiers of Sherman have heard oft before 
That music—now mingled with ocean’s deep roar. 

And they form a fierce front, while the bugle and drum 
Invite them to glory, with “Come, heroes, come!” 

As brave as the bravest of the Rhone or the Rhine, 


12 


sherman’s march to the sea. 


“Not a straggler is seen in the glorious line.” 

Now they dash o’er the crest and impetuously hurl 
To the ground the foul emblem, but quickly unfurl, 

All gory and torn, ’tis the flag of the Stars, 

Columbia’s own banner, the favorite of Mars. 

How it kisses the wind to the flags on the deep, 

As the wild cheers of triumph ring out and again; 

How the victory signals exultinglv leap. 

And the joyful responses float back from the main! 

While the last beams of sunshine now linger and die 
In the amber and golden-hued clouds of the sky, 

Comes the empress of night, and in bright ether seas, 
Floats upwards to heaven on wonderful thrones; 

With goddess-like fingers she touches~the breeze, 

And in dreams of sad music it lulls to low moans; 

The silvery floods are thrown back from the spray, 

Where the proud ships of Dahlgren are hugging the bay; 
And the fluttering flags from the towering spars 
Their raptures exchange with the beautiful stars; 

Now plaintive and wild is the nightingale’s cry, 

As it echoes and trills on the shore of the deep, 

For the souls of immortals with shudder and sigh 
Are but waiting the sound of the death-angel’s sweep; 
The smoke of the conflict is vanished in air, 

And mournful the voice of the night-wind's soft prayer, 
O’er the red field of glory where lately the brave 
In winning sweet victory have won the cold grave. 


THE DASH ON VAN BUREN. 


13 


THE DASH ON VAN BUREN. 


H 


BRIDGE of gossamer seems lifting from 
this autumn swoon, 


And drops afar into another golden after¬ 
noon, 


And you and I, my comrade, mount and pass 
in easy flight, 

And feel again the spirit of that old heroic 
light. 

Twas when we wore the breeches blue of 
military law, 

And made the dash historic in the hills of 
Arkansaw ; 


The march took in a farmer, proved in loyal 
duty lax, 

And so an hour we halted to collect delin¬ 
quent tax ; 

There, while in sunshine lolling, some out¬ 
rider brought the word, 

That beautiful Van Buren entertained a reb¬ 
el horde ; 


And then ! to get there ! as the cyclone -or 
the hurricane, 

Or match as near as splendid horses might 
the lightning’s plan ! 


14 


THE DASH ON VAN BUREN. 


That prince of drivers, old reliable Eli, led 
out, 

And southern sun ne’er gazed upon another 
such a rout; 

Jehus and Elis all—none ever can forget 
that ride ! 

Six miles of rocks ! on crazy cannons flying 
—scattering wide 

The chickens, hams and turkeys, extra com¬ 
missary stores, 

Rare stuff for aching vacuums that nature’s 
soul abhors ! 

’Twas sad to lose those morsels, and pro¬ 
found was our regret, 

But stomach's loss was spirit’s gain—the fun 
is lingering yet ; 

Ah ! fun of peril dire, the lips of laughter 
closed in awe, 

To see boys shot in air, returning, thump 
old Arkansaw. 

Though Uncle Pmneo's leg was broke, it was 
a splitting sight 

To watch him like a rocket spin on that aeri¬ 
al flight; 

And Henry Helm, the Dutchman, testy, but 
a soldier leal, 

Describing curves elliptical over the limber’s 
wheel ; 

Forgot was home—and sweethearts, naught 
was in that dizzy swim, 


THE DASH ON VAN BUREN. 


15 


Save ground and lofty tumblers, sailing o’er 
the mountain’s rim ; 

’Twas roaring circus, yet sublime—supreme 
are moments when 

A hundred ruddy boys are somersaulting 
into men. 

Ah ! jolly lads, God bless them all ! Their . 
hearts of oak sat still, 

The while their bodies seemed the dreamy 
atmosphere to fill, 

And now the shouts, the bugle, even Ten¬ 
ney’s stentor tones 

Are but as undercurrents in that tattoo on 
the stones ; 

Lightnings are in the flints, and dart their 
bolts of flame, 

Until the halting battery takes up the lurid 
game ; 

The rebels fly—shells after them—across the 
Arkansaw, 

And in Van Buren reigns again old Uncle 
Samuel’s law. 

***** 


Hearken, comrade ! closer your heart’s beat! 

where’s the beardless brave ? 

Who are the limping lingerers, and who have 
crossed the wave ? 

Good Pinneo ! long since, his soul soared on 
a starry quest, 


THE DASH ON VAN BUREN. 


16 

Whenoe light flows back to kiss the hill 
where turn we to the west. 

Fuller, the mystic, where is he, our spirit’s 
acolyte, 

Torch bearer to the soul, like as the deep 
and tender night! 

The snows hold all, whether upon the earth 
or in its fold, 

But in our dreamy retrospect, their silver 
hair is gold, 

And brown and black ; their cheeks are soft 
and fair, their eyes are bright 

As when the breath was jolted out of them 
—but not the tight. 

And somehow, Jack, the funny part to sight 
is growing dim, 

And pathos seems dissolving to a noble, 
tearful hymn ; 

That wild discord of hoofs and wheels upon 
the mountain wall, 

Upon that russet afternoon that saw Van 
Buren fall. 

And from that din, back through the years 
a subtle music floats— 

A harmony of hopes and hearts attuned to 
patriot notes ; 

Its rising chord is blended with the diapason 
grand 

That blends with all the future of the earth's 
imperial land. 


THE VETERAN VOLUNTEER. 


17 


THE VETERAN VOLUNTEER. 


Q^OME, lads, fill up the foaming toast, 
Let the glasses ring and rattle; 
Here’s to our country, whate’er the cost 
Of blood, on the field of battle. 

The proudest, bravest of the earth, 

Is the land that gave Washington birth, 
And our patriot sires of olden time, 

Who bled and died at Brandywine. 

Then fill up, fill up the sparkling toast: 

Let the glasses ring and rattle; 

Our land forever, whate’er the cost 
Of blood, on the field of battle. 

Shall we, like cowards, shun the fight, 
That rages, wild and gory, 

And be on our nation’s name a blight, 

To blot the page of story? 

We’ll not forget the lessons taught, 

The glorious deed, the glorious thought, 
Of “liberty and equal right,” 


18 


TIIE VETERAN VOLUNTEER. 


That frighted kings, and dared their might. 
Then fill to the brim the flowing toast, 
This land they shall not sever; 

Here’s to the Union whate’er the cost, 

To be forever and ever. 

We’ve said goodbye to the hearts at home, 
Our faces southward turning; 

And thrice have met the rebel throng k 
Our bosoms fiercely burning. 

Six states we’ve won—as many more 
Remain defiant to our power; 

But these shall quake with horrid fears. 
When march the veteran volunteers. 

Then fill the bowl and wake the song, 

Let nations hear the chorus; 

Our land forever right or wrong, 

And the flag that floats before us. 

Immortal be Columbia’s fame, 

And stricken be her foemen, 

Until her sons a birthright claim 
As proud as any Roman. 

Bright eyes shall beam with radiance rare, 
Sweet fingers cull the chaplets fair, 

Place on our brows, with joyous tear, 

The crown of the veteran volunteer. 

Then high, once more, the reeking toast; 


MEMORIAL DAY. 


19 


Here’ to the flag above us; 

Our native land—our pride, our boast, 
And the glorious girls who love us. 
1864 . 


MEMORIAL DAY. 

J^ATURE, sweet mother, loving all 
With equal heart, forgetful twines 

Her beauty round the battered walls 
And hides with flowers the battle lines. 

In languid dream o’er vale and hill 
The daisies sentinel her dead; 

Heedless for what they fought and fell, 

Or by what banner they were led. 

Her children were they all—dear boys— 
For something good each heart beat true; 

Brothers, yet at the bugle’s voice 
To battle marched in gray and blue. 

Now in her arms the foes lie still; 

She grants them gracious covering; 

With quarrel done,—their sweet good will, 
The happy birds forever sing. 


20 


MEMORIAL DAY. 


Oh, days of blood and jealous pain, 

You hurt our hearts full deep and long, 

That still the bitter thoughts remain, 
Resentful of the costly wrong! 

Oh, noble heart whose sacrifice 
Sealed gloriously the nation’s cause, 

Whose thoughts benevolent and wise 
Are reverenced as the nation’s laws. 

How have we imitated thee, 

Redeemed thy large and liberal word— 

If malice banish charity, 

With hands still ready for the sword? 

May incense of these roses fair 
That die in this sweet death of May, 

With breath of balm load all the air 
To heal the hearts of blue and gray! 

’Tis holy fragrance, fraught with fate 
Grander than dwells in steam or steel; 

And builds the fabric of a state 

Worth all the woe that bought its weal. 

So shall our heroes peaceful sleep 
While love and honor, flowers and stars, 

Through centuries their vigils keep— 

Till love and honor banish wars. 


DECEMBER ( TH. 


21 


DECEMBER 7TH. 


TO CAPTAIN MARCUS I). TENNEY. 


M Y Captain, when the mighty whirl returns 
This day, marked red on that dire calendar 
When Freedom’s flag refused to drop a star, 

I tread again the vale—again it burns 

With battle’s fire. Your voice as made for war— 
Outsounding bugles—wheels the grimy guns, 

And from their thunderous mouths the lightning runs 
The smoke hides all, through which anear and far 
Flash demon eyes. The shout of onset thrills 
Hero and coward. Life and death—God’s mills 
That grind souls fine—with dread machinery 
Struggle together; both combat the sun; 

The darkness falls; the day of glory’s done— 

And Death doth shock the night with victory. 


99 


MEMORIAL DAY PICTURES. 


MEMORIAL DAY PICTURES. 

^ RIGHT eyes flashing from beardless, ruddy faces, 

Lithe forms,light hearts that thrilled to nature’s beauty, 
Disdaining verdant aisles and flowery spaces 
Of that dread spring, when love and loyal duty 
Sublimed the souls of men, and death and danger 
Were but as skulking, cowering fugitives 
By brave hearts scorned, when flushed with patriot anger, 
And honor, land and flag required their lives. 

Proud boys marching, hurrahs the welkin rending; 

And silken banners waving, wrought by fingers 
Incarnate snow and rose in subtle blending— 

This is the picture comes to day, and lingers; 

And in the background, faces pale with weeping, 

Radiant they stand, who were the battle’s spirits— 

And then as now, the future in their keeping, 

And all the glory that the Flag inherits. 

These beard-frosts seem to melt—that ancient splendor 
Beams on our hearts and warms their freezing fountains, 
Brings back forgotten dreams, ambitious, tender, 

That nerved the weary soldier climbing mountains; 

And they that climbed nor saw again the valley, 

The dreamer pale we left upon the plain, 

Who heeded not the final drum beat’s rally— 

Why, look you, comrades, here they are again! 


IN MEMORIAM. 


2 


They speak—O listen! Soul and spirit hear them! 

“O blest heirs of the nation’s undreamed glory, 

Our graves hide jewels—pray you seek them, wear them 
So shall ye cherish sacrifice and story; 

Country is our bequest—O guard the banner 
That typifies the heights of earth’s endeavor, 

And we shall hear and cheer the grand hosanna— 

‘ Union, Justice and Liberty forever ’ ! ” 


IN MEMORIAM. 

ATHON WILLEY, CORPORAL, KILLED 1863. 

0H, loyal heart to Truth and Liberty, 

The fountain strong of brave and generous deed, 
Foremost in danger if but duty lead, 

In life’s fair spring on alien shores you lie— 

God’s sees where, but no other friendly eye. 

And bleaching in the gloomy solitude 

Of that vine-wreathed and far-off darksome wood 

Your bones forever plead the pitying skj 7 ; 

But forest flowers trod by cruelty 
Uprose to gather sweetness from your death, 

And bear your spirit in their fragrant breath; 

For all your life was gentle, noble, pure, 

You died for country—so your deeds endure, 

And Freedom crowns you with a martyr’s wreath. 


24 


AMERICA, 


AMERICA. 


0H, my America! 

Immortal is thy story; 

Thy stars of Freedom shine 
Around the world thy glory! 

Dream of all the ages, thou, 
Dream of future lights thy brow. 
Concordant with the symphonies, 
Thrilling thy mountains, valleys, seas y 
From zephyr’s sweetest charm 
To tempest’s wild alarm, 

The sweep of Time 
Shall be a rhyme 

From cadence soft to strains sublime. 
The price of martyred sons 
At mouths of blazing guns, 

Oh, loved America. 

Till bells of earth and heaven chime, 
Thy flag shall fly, 

Thy heroes die! 


JULY FOURTH. 


25 


JULY FOURTH. 


jpO DAY the light is clearer, 

And brings the shadow nearer 
Of a planet yet to whirl the circle of the sun; 

It is a horoscope 
Casting the human hope, 

Subtle with meaning deep of what the world has won. 


The grandest march of soul 
Towards the noblest goal, 

Was when our glorious fathers marched to July Fourth, 
And set in this day’s light 
The truth of the Infinite, 

That all mankind are brothers, and of equal worth. 


The grandest march of heart 
Was when the human mart 
Was burned to ashes in the deathless July flame. 

And a blazing sword is set 
Athwart the bayonet, 

Upon the crimson line we crossed from deathless shame. 


26 


JULY FOURTH. 


Oh, day of liberty, 

Your light is destiny! 

Your force and thunder pallid monarchs feel and hear. 
You beamed at Lexington, 

And Appomattox won, 

And now your crystals fall upon a hemisphere. 

Your stars of hope unfurled 
Shine to the nether world, 

Taking the breath of heaven with their matchless gleam; 
And all that is to be 
Upon the land and sea 

Glows in the radiance of your prophetic beam. 

For swift the shadow flies 
Of planet in the skies, 

The sun shall kiss from Aries and Capricorn: 

Earth shall he horn again , 

And peace, good will to men 
Are in the bugles sweet of this transcendent morn. 




KINGS. 


97 


KINGS. 


^ LIGHT once struggled up through brave men’s souls, 
And beamed a matchless glory o’er the world; 

A hand, with honor white, upheld the scrolls 
Of free men’s thoughts—and then, their flag unfurled, 
Bore through the darkness with a heart sublime, 

Till Freedom’s grandest heritage was won. 

With luster dimming all the names of time, 

Immortal glows Columbia’s Washington. 


With rays unequal, Freedom shines not well— 

Freedom forever toward the sky must climb, 

And catch new fire from heaven—not from hell. 

W T hen hearts, false shrines of her, were Wack with crime, 
And muttering thunders rolled from sea to sea, 

From out the prairies came with brawny hand 
The kingliest sacrifice of Liberty, 

That lusters any age or any land. 


A nation trembled in a balance, while 
Men’s hearts volcanoes were. The awful breath 
Of tempests rushing from dread mouths of steel, 
Strewed all the soil of Liberty with death. 

A Leader came, with lips firm closed and still; 

His gaze was destiny—and friend and foe 

Each fateful, sure step watched with thrill on thrill, 

Unto Rebellion’s mighty overthrow. 

With immortelles we wreathe these three , 

Coequal guards of Liberty. 


28 


COLUMBIA. 


COLUMBIA. 


Q^APTAIN and Pilot, cool and steady, true, 
Dowered with faith of faith, steering the bark, 
With the world’s hopes laden o’er waters dark— 
Right’s star guiding is sighted by the crew, 

And loud vivas assault the heaven’s blue; 
Watching the beacon light’s transcendent spark, 
Reposeful sailing toward the shining mark, 

The hearts of all on board are linked to you! 

Nor rock nor wave shall wreck the ship of state, 
While Heart and Oenius blended regnant stand 
On deck, at helm; nor fears the crew its fate; 
But hearkening to the eloquent command, N 
Forever Freedom’s bark shall sail the sea., 

Its flag the hope of all humanity. 


POEMS OF KANSAS. 































KANSAS — 1879 . 


31 


KANSAS—1879. 

J^OT song’s divinest sacrifice 
® Bears incense that is worthy thee, 

O fair young land of tinted skies 

And rosy suns, where blithe and free 
The breeze of Southland, wind of love, 

Soft fans dew-moistened hill and grove, 

The hills where erst the red man’s gods descended, 
And now the hunters sleep—their glory ended. 

Ended! but ere its twilight dies 

New eyes have feasted on thy flowers, 

And songs of sweeter harmonies 

Than breathed of love in dusky bowers, 

Proclaim the conquering tribes of men. 

The tasse'led angel, Mondamin, 

Reborn, divinely springs from sodded dullness, 
And lives in brighter forms of perfect fullness. 

O Kansas! blest thou art. Thy vines 
In purple affluence reveal 
True diamond treasures: Soil and clime 
For health, for wealth: Thy sisters kneel 
To thee: With rose and myrtle crown 
Thee queen, when falls in splendor down 
Thy harvest hair of brown and golden tresses, 

And royal apples blush at summer’s kisses. 


32 


KANSAS— 1879 , 


And proud as thou art blest: Thy sons 
Have answered to the call of Death; 

Nor gory swords, nor blazing guns 

Have stayed them from the warrior’s wreath. 
Fine fire the pen that writes thy charms 
Of eye and brow and snowy arms, 

Or cheek and lip where dreamily reposes 
The sweet enraptured soul of nature’s roses. 

Hail! then, thou fair prophetic youth 
Of destiny! The stars give room; 

The flag is brighter for thy deed and truth; 

As strong as fair, no early tomb 
Thy glory waits. Of noble birth, 

So may the seasons prove thy worth; 

So may the flying years increase thy beauty 
With virtue, valor, still thy children’s duty. 

Welcome to-day the hearts that loved thee— 

Great hearts that bled while thine lay bleeding, 
When Freedom’s peril moved and proved thee, 
Great souls who then thy voice were heeding; 

To poets grand whose words of flame 
Are wrought in splendor with thy fame, 

To friends who poured for thee their ready treasure 
Yield greeting, love and honor, not by measure. 


ADDRESS TO SETTLERS. 


33 


ADDRESS TO SETTLERS. 


^JELCOME, old friends! may all things bright 
With beaut}', sweetness, dear delight, 

Your hearts enthrall, your homes make fair, 

And smooth the front of wrinkled care. 


And if it prove as we have said it, 

’Tis something greatly to your credit, 
For happy fortune is his dower 
Whose honor is his noblest power; 

And heaven smiles on him whose feet 
In paths of charity are fleet. 

Love is the law from earth to sky;— 
Obey, and heaven will ne’er deny 
A generous meed of corn and wine; 
(Better only the corn—the sign 
Hung in the sky of politics 
Foreshadows loss to him who mix¬ 
es drinks, and him who grows the vine.) 

Again we bid you welcome! Look! 
Fling up the windows! Read the book 
Of pictures that about you lies 


34 


ADDRESS TO SETTLERS. 


On nature writ with sacrifice; 

This verdurous magnificence 
Won from primeval wilds immense, 

Reflects our hearts in mood and tense— 

Our greeting large and generous— 

To noble women and brave men 
Who, mocking slavery’s ribald curse, 

Drove back the monster to his den. 

Perish the thought, the heart, the hand, 

That freedom slights in freedom’s land; 

Or yields not honor lovingly 
To all the guards of liberty. 

Ring up the curtain! Sad and fair 
The thronging, fleeting pictures are; 

There, pass the simple days agone 
When on these flowery meads, the sun 
With affluent beam, and summer’s rain 
Wrought out the hues that crowned the plain. 
The drooping violet and daisy tender, 

The rose’s wild and trailing splendor— 

Sweet eyes that answered to the stars, 

And filled with perfume wandering airs— 

No pover or eloquence possessed 
To soothe the strange and fierce unrest, 

Or charm the demon from his breast, 

Whose fate-fixed glance from lands of gloom 
Stolid pursued his path of doom. 


ADDRESS TO SETTLERS. 


35 


Unmoved by beauty—yet the soul 
Of this babbler from Babel’s dole 
In storm clouds reveled with his gods 
To win sublime, heroic moods, 

Walking alike in snow and fire, 

No pain appalled, nor son, nor sire, 

A sound of voices! ’Tis a knell! 

Brave spirit of the wild, farewell! 

What change is here? The hunter’s path 
Parting the firefiend’s lips of wrath, 

Is lost beneath the sea of corn 
Whose emerald waves outflash the morn; 
Or, bannered host it seems to be 
With falchions armed for liberty. 

Science retouches nature’s rose, 

And sweeter song imparts repose; 

From hill and valley soft and clear 
The peal of bells brings happy cheer; 
Ennobled by the breath of prayer, 

A subtler life pervades the air; 

Ah, dream of beauty, peace and love 
G-ive way! The powers below, above, 
Viewdess as forces of the frost, 

Forever meet—a warring host; 

’Tis conflict irrepressible 

Of Right with Wrong, of Heaven with Hell. 


36 


ADDRESS TO SETTLERS. 


And when anon grows loud the din 
The clash disturbs the hearts of men; 

Their souls awake to finer sense— 

The injured must have recompense!- 

Stalks forth John Brown—mystic and grim, 

To common souls remote and dim; 

He dies to live—in fiery flight 
His spirit leads the fiercest fight; 

And Lincoln, gentle, terrible, 

Wrote for eternity, then fell; 

And he whose silence struck dismay 
Stepped forth with tread of destiny; 

A nation’s cry in the drum's fierce beat 
Summoned a million ready feet; 

And women faint with agony 

Wrought flags for which brave men must die. 

Ring down the curtain! Let the past 
Be past! Let us the future cast. 

Put out the smoldering fires of hate, 

Clasp hands and grandly build the State. 

A mighty unit now’s the flag, 

Folding the Rocky’s towering crag, 

And shading gulf and lake and shore 
That never shall be severed more. 

Sweet peace be theirs who fought and fell; 

In song and story still they dwell; 

Fair Freedom won on Freedom’s field 


ADDRESS TO SETTLERS. 


37 


And honors him who bore her shield; 

Nor digging wolves, nor dogs that bite, 

May hurt the bones that fell for Right. 

* 

With days of famine, war and thirst, 

When land and hearthstone seem accurst 
And men and nature wrought their worst, 

No heart to linger hath the muse 
But fain would fly to fairer views, 

Where plenty, and a sky serene 
Crown Kansas, of her sisters, queen. 

Ad Astra per Aspera! Sure they 
Were prophets' who described her way; 

Her schools, her liberty and law, 

Her future fields of gold they saw; 

Her banner bearing words of light 
To rescue men from drunken night. 

Starward ever in thought and deed 
With virtue, valor still thy creed, 

We hail thee, sturdy, stalwart youth, 

And pledge thee fealty and truth; 

To friends afar and friends anear, 

Who gave a penny or a tear, 

When days were dark and nights were drear, 
Flowers and greetings send to-day 
To'lovers all—and send alway. 


38 


KANSAS— 1889 . 


KANSAS—1889. 

% 


W 


HAT time the clouds of Liberty’s duress 
Hung darkly o’er its mighty wilderness, 


Then fled in storm, leaving a wondrous light 
Like morn of splendor flashed from rayless night, 

Under the lullaby of waving grass 

What powers slept, what life, what loveliness! 

O ’er the wide grave divinest incense blew 
As flower goblets spilled their perfumed dew; 

And sacrament was in the mystic spell 
Of solitudes rife with the invisible. 


Silence sublime! poetic mood of earth 
Ere flower roots turn gems of human worth. 

But list, wild roses! hear the rushing wing 
That fans to life more glorious blossoming! 

The purple seas, presto! were green and gold 
As magic like the billowy map unrolled; 

The starry pendulum of destiny 

Swung wide, driven by the winds of Liberty. 


THE FARMER. 


39 


For Freedom’s angel ’twas whose tempest sweep 
Awaked the prairies from their deathful sleep; 

And o’er their portals crossed the shining words, 
* ‘Virtue, courage, culture,” as sentry swords. 

'And now, the fantasies of- Freedom’s thought 
On nature’s page in forms and colors wrought, 

Mirror in the blue depths of matchless skies 
The shadow of an earthly paradise; 

And fix upon our country’s flag a star, 

Like Venus shines in peace, like Mars in war. 


THE FARMER. 


jp HE Atlas of old Fable stands 

Revealed in the Farmer’s arms and hands. 

Hurrah for the Farmer! 

For on his plow the nations ride 
And the great ships, as on the tide; 

His corn and wheat are sliver, gold, 

And are their burden deck and hold; 

The iron rails from lakes to seas 


40 


THE FARMER. 


Though bearing them are borne by these; 

He floods the world with golden grain, 

If favored by the sun and rain; 

And when they fail him, raises “Cain”— 
Hurrah for the Farmer! 

The honest yoeman 
Is the stern foeman 

Of crime and wrongs, rank weeds that grow 
In palaces as well as slums, 

And from the breath of nature comes 
The souls and scythes that lay them low; 
The Lincolns, Grants and Washingtons, 

And all who live in hearts and bronze; 

For the world’s reformer 
Is the Farmer, 

And in his heart the golden rule 
Outweighs the silver of the fool; 

Teaches content, and medium life 
That misses squalor, wealth—and strife; 

His flag of peace unfurled 
Is benediction to the world. 

For this is truth from ages far: 

Right food and raiment virtue are; 

And from them sweet religion flows 
As fragrance from the rose 
Or radiance from the star. 




PERSONAL. 










ULYSSES. 


ULYSSES. 


^JELCOME, Ulysses! 

Latest and greatest Argonaut 
That ever sailed or ever fought! 

A breeze as from the hearts of the nation 
Floats westward with fragrant oblation, 
Like the breath of a lover 
The flag that flies over 
You, Ulysses, 

Salutes with kisses! 

The hero of Troy, bold rover, 

With Jason old 
The fleece of gold 
Sought wearily, vainly and far; 

But you the world over 
Have gathered a fairer 
And come back the wearer; 

Through country and town 
From hovel to throne 
Borne in triumphal car 
Now home to your own, 

Still wordless as the Sphynx, with quiet 
That awes to trembling Kearney’s riot. 


44 


WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. 


The viper-like hisses 
Become, “Welcome, Ulysses! 

G-reat victor in peace and in war!” 

From London to Peking 
Ne’er soldier or sea king, 

More simple, more grand 
Or honest of hand; 

The people’s idol and the guest of queens, 
The hearts of your country have followed 
And heard when all the world hallooed; 
Undazed by courtly gleams, 

Nor fooled by splendid dreams, 

By no Circe’s smiles undone, 

With honors for her mighty son 
Columbia’s bliss is 
To welcome Ulysses. 


WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN. 

^HERMAN, if Homer lived to sing again, 

Not Troy’s princes nor kings of Hellenes, 
Nor wily Grecians hid in Trojan trees— 
Phantoms of dateless war from Homer’s brain, 
And Beauty’s fools unworth his mighty strain— 
But thinking swords that clashed philosophies, 
Cannons that thundered th’ Infinite’s decrees, 


WALT WHITMAN 


45 


And Duty holding death in proud disdain, 

Would Homer sing—with noblest voice, your host, 
Of all the startled world the cynosure 
When to its whispered word, ‘'Which cause is lost?” 
The waves replied as finished at the shore 
Freedom’s romance; lacking his song sublime, 

Still you and'they defy the wrack of time. 


WALT WHITMAN. 


m IXTURE of Nature's rarest elements 
And type ideal of her rude magnificence, 

Wide as her landscapes, river-t hough ted priest of 
America; 

Comrade of grasses, flowers, trees—earth’s inspiration— 
Breathing their odors, drinking at their dripping foun¬ 
tains, reveling in their dewy splendors— 

Himself a part of, and kin to their mystery and divinity, 
(As ’twere great Pan had come again with pipe and lute, 
and song as wind and wave,) 

Torch bearer and oracle, celebrating man, 

With sympathy encircling as the sun— 

Yet rather kissing hamlet than the palace; 

Responsive to the wounded, suffering, dying, 

(He, too, was wounded, suffering, dying,) 

Poet of all, lover of all, symbol of all, 

Passed with radiance (a sea of soul), placid, facing the sky. 


46 


WERTER RENICK DAVIS, D. D. 


WERTER RENICK DAVIS, D. D. 


£JT)IRROR of soul, his guise of gentleness; 

The fairest gifts of nature to the child 
Adorned the man with beauty undefiled, 

And sealed with tender grace of love’s express 
A brow that never clouded—that success 

Flushed not with the false glow of heart beguiled 
Fitting to life so lovely, courtly, mild, 

His spirit's flight seemed heaven’s sweet caress. 


And proof of heaven was the heart we knew, 

And proof of angels was his kindly word; 

The shadows flee from Doubt and leave it Faith 
When eyes like these beam through the misty blue 
And breaks the bowl and severs the silver cord— 
Nor victor is the grave, nor sting has death. 


FANNY. 

^LITHESOME little lady Fanny 
Has her lovers true and many; 

If ’tis so at life’s beginning, 

Ah, the hearts that she’ll be winning 
When the bud a-blushing rose is, 
When her soul at full reposes 
In her eyes starlike and tender, 
Matching heaven’s depths of splendor. 


FANNY. 


Have you seen her eyes of beauty, 
Beaming love and truth and duty; 
Charming now with soft surprise, 
Drooping swift with modesties; 
Fringed ether flashing glances, 
Dire and wounding as are lances; 
Lustrous, eloquent and deep, 

That sometime must murder sleep 

Lady Fanny, sweet, my pet, 

Rose and lily, mignonette, 
Heliotrope and violet, 

Chrysoprase and chrysolite, 
Amethyst and topaz bright— 
Vain the search for images— 
Metaphor or simile 
Never shall I find for thee. 

Like the fragrance of a flower 
Is the memory of the hour 
When her raining kisses fell 
On my lips to work a spell, 

That, with fairy knavery, 

Holds me in sweet slavery; 

If it is a sin to love her, 

Then I’m criminal all over. 

Heaven bless her—keep her sweet 
May the sunshine wrap her feet; 


48 


IN EGYPT—ILLINOIS. 


Heaven guide her, keep her pure, 
Till she stands at length secure 
On the heights of womanhood, 
G-entle, lovely, noble, good; 
Virtue dwelling in her face, 

On her head its crown of grace. 


IN EGYPT—ILLINOIS 

TO MILO. 

J T was down at old Cairo—not on the Nile— 

When very young fellows were we, 

Unwearied with marching full many a mile 
From the country they call ‘‘Cherokee.” 

And the zephyrs that fanned us in evenings fair 
Were hardly more careless than we, 

As we dreamily loafed through the dirty old square, 
And thought of the things that might be. 

Sometimes,to the thrummings of the soft guitar— 
Hid under a shadowy tree— 

There struggled within us a different war 
Than the fighting for our dear country. 


IN EGYPT—ILLINOIS. 


49 


Oh, the fingers were white and they flashed a fine light, 
And was it much wonder that we— 

Of sensitive nature—succumbed to the sight, 

And out of the shade of the tree 
Were tempted incontinently. 

Now that was a good while ago, old friend, 

When fountains of wisdom were we— 

A condition, not theory, 

When the down that later is hair 
Giyes a hint of the razor’s despair— 

And much have we found to condemn or commend 
Since hid by the shade of the tree 
We listened to sweet melody. 

From the old to the new your dreams have come true— 
With light through the loveliest tree 
That ever on earth may be; 

Through prisms of love your visions you prove, 

And in music of childish glee; 

But only in memory 

From the new to the old I return to the gold 
That showered through moonlight and tree; 

And I think to be young were better than old 
A-listening to hope’s melody— 

And still in the shade of the tree. 


50 


TO TIIE iELIOIANS. 


TO THE ^ELIOIANS. 


MOTTO, LIGHT, MORE LIGHT. 


7X? LIOIAN! The name has nameless charm, 
The seal of grace, the light of loveliness; 
Oarlands the heart, is spirit’s rare impress, 
Folding the lustered dream of Love’s alarm, 
Poem, pictured in colors soft and warm; 

Nor Time, indeed, though cold and passionless 
May pass without a consecrating kiss, 
Conferring life—or death—but never harm. 


Backward as links of flowers are the years— 

The pure white rays of that initial sun 
Shine hither, blending rainbows through the tears; 

The present is a height the past has won, 

And, faithful to the lead of breaking light, 

The trend is ever to the Infinite. 


WHEN SHADOWS FALL. 

/ 

When shadows fall, we cry 
For light—without it, die. 

Nor sun hath any light , 

Nor star for spirit's night 
When shadows fall. 



WHEN SHADOWS FALL. 


51 


Yet in the darkest day 
Is hidden heaven s ray; 

And in the deepest night 
The soul finds clearest light , 
And hears its noblest call 
When shadows fall. 


CORA. 


^JNDER the awful vault of night, 

Dotted with fire through endless spaces, 
Our wondrous vision interlaces 
The finite and the infinite. 

Under sorrow’s dark vault, our eyes 
Sweep misty seas to dim floods blending 
Time and eternity—the surge unending 
We catch, of heaven’s symphonies. 

Griefs somber garb an angel hides: 

Her blinding tears, divinest vision, 

Yield to the soul. In vales elysian 
We know that Cora, blest, abides. 

What greater can we say of her? 

If from the stars we look, what better 
Than leave the world forever debtor, 
Weeping beside the clay of her? 


52 


WHEN SHADOWS FALL. 


Ah, spirit fair! Bathed in a light 
Purer than Goethe asked when flying, 

No more you mark the sere leaves sighing; 
Yours is the day—ours still the night. 


* LIZZIE. 

^LAS for her! Life’s overflow 

Shrank back in seeming waveless woe! 
Life saw her dreaming at the gate 
Of sweetest womanhood’s estate, 

When fell, as out of space, the blow. 

“Wherefore,” we question, “is it so?” 

But shadows moving to and fro, 

Are shadows still, if law or fate, 

Alas for her! 

Yet loud we dare not cry, but low 
Murmur to skies that bend and glow, 

The plaint of hearts so desolate; 

Alas for them who sigh and wait, 

And say of one with jeweled brow: 

“Alas for her!” 


Miss Lizzie Breyfogle met Lisiant death at a railroad crossing 


TO A POET. 


53 


TO A POET. 

j^H, blind was I your ‘‘Sonnet” to deride— 

That firstling with a sonnet’s boundary 
And seemed arithmetic, not poetry: 

Your secret tears fell hot on wounded pride; 

Pardon! my vision gross could not divide 
From commonplace its possibility; 

Dreamless (to me) with swan-like melody 

The sickly thought half-way the ‘‘octave” died. 

Presto! here’s rythm a-shining o’er your name 
Whose spirit music challenges redress 
For that old sneer—and Poet doth confess; 

Your ancient fourteen lines seem wreathed in flame, 
I read between them words of star-like glow— 

A Sonnet from a Sonnet’s overflow! 

MARGUERITE. 

j0EAR Marguerite! (this hides her name 
Whose beauty lights the tender flame 
That secretly my heart confesses;) 

I wonder if she ever guesses 

What words are in my seeming shame, 

And downcast eye, and utterance lame? 


54 


JOSEPHINE. 


Ah, could I dare the sweet acclaim 
That in me constantly expresses 

“Dear Marguerite!” 

This love, I wot, is nature’s game; 

To win or lose is just the same— 

Or so, philosophy professes; 

’Tis true—O whom the verse addresses, 
If won, or lost, these words I frame: 

DEAR MARGUERITE! 


JOSEPHINE. 

ujpHAT strain again—it had a dying fall!” 

Ah, Orsino, what charm ineffable 
That fair Illyrian night upon thee fell? 

E’en now we know—the heart's interpreter 
Hath cast us in his mirror. Orsino hears— 

And we also; Orsino weeps—our tears. 

The world grows old, but never love and song; 
Still sweet the summer night and fair the flower, 
And spirit deeps are touched by music’s power. 

Are not all sweeter as the ages fly? 

The noble Trojan listened with his heart, 

And we also—the heirs of nobler art. 



SONNETS AND LYRICS. 





VERSE FORMS. 


57 


VERSE FORMS. 

“Let me think of forms less , ” said Shakespeare s daughter 
Spirit makes foxpn, and form from spirit grows; 

And matchless forms her matchless spirit taught her , 

From inward blooming outward as the rose; 

The poet s thought alone is poetry 
And, springs soul-clad, to immortality. 


UNDERTONES. 

|gPEECHLESS I stood within a forest hoar 
When, on a sudden rustled through the trees 
A subtle ebb and flow of minstrelsies, 

That held sublime, yet strangely mystic lore; 
Clearer, stronger, it pierced my spirit’s core 
With ecstasy that rose through fine degrees, 
And pulsed to rythmic waves of purple seas 
That lash their songs upon a starry shore. 

A mellow iterance of the billows’ roll 
In murmurous music plashing fitfully 
To echoes passed—and immortality. 

Slow lifts the trance that o’er my being stole 
And I awake, and know there passed my soul 
A master sonnet’s wondrous melody. 


58 


LOVE. 


LOVE. 

JJ^HE challenge of the night’s eternal bloom— 
Planet and sun; this speck on which we crawl 
In paths eccentric to our mystic doom— 

Even as it, awhile in light, then gloom— 

With dark arcana filled, whose subtle thrall 
Doth bend us over rock and flower, and sweeps 
Our wondering souls through universal deeps 
Straining to catch their meaning mystical, 

Are but as letters dimly streaming light 
On Love—of all, the essence infinite— 

The life of angels, and whose lack’s the curse 
Of devils; but to mortals left to know 
As both the bliss supreme and saddest woe; 

Love is the secret of the universe. 


FRIENDSHIP. 

jf THINK that Friendship oft is Love’s diguise; 

A garb that symbolizes Love’s defeat; 

A grief most pitiful yet strangely sweet; 

An undertone that girds the earth with sighs 
And thrills aloft a murmur ’gainst the skies; 

A blighted bud the heart wears past the tomb 
To burst in purer light to perfect bloom. 


FRIENDSHIP. 


59 


0 FRIEND, that evermore art only friend, 
Wherefore if God doth love us is it so? 
W T herefore the subtle lustre did He lend 
To thee to give one bliss, another woe? 

In waters cold like Tantalus I stand 

Fair fruit beholding which the mocking wave 

Sweeps ever close, but yet eludes my hand— 

Fair fruit for which I hunger to the grave. 

The grave! Ah, soul! is’t true that recompense 
Comes there—that through its chemistry, her lips 
May yield largess of love with innocence; 

Her eyes no longer tethered in eclipse, 

Diviner orbed, their radiances send 
To fall with equal grace on Lover—Friend? 


TIN outward conscience in thy face I meet; 

Dear mentor, thanks! An increment of pure 
And noble purpose, when I hear thy feet, 

To life adds strength, makes honor more secure; 

A stellar constant, thou, whose light, serene, 
Shines sweetly through the distance that between 
Us lies. Ah, could I, would I make it less? 

Nay, sweet, that were not love—-but selfishness; 


60 


PERDITA. 


When I shall hear the song of birds in spring 
Whose far-off echoes of a symphony 
Must needs lost music wake to memory, 

A pain, maj r be, it to my heart will bring, 
But pain, not all joyless, for sorrow’s might 
Doth keenness lose in consciousness of right. 


PERDITA. 


7T BROW whereon is set Minerva’s seal, 

^ And luminous with the glow of noble thought. 
O’er-arching eyes that purpose pure reveal 
In their fine depths—whose mystery you feel 
Just as night’s stars—but with a beauty fraught— 
Irradiant of immortality— 

Dimming the luster of the things that die; 

A Phidian dream the face, whose lips have caught 
From roseate marble their ideal curve— 

Where strength is both a glory and defense, 
And soul doth point the darts of wit and sense. 
And heart is held in delicate reserve— 

But heart, alas! endued with heaven’s wrong, 
Inspiring, yet unheeding passion’s song. 


CELESTE. 


61 


CELESTE. 


0 RARE pale face why are you ever sad? 

Methinks you always hear the moaning sea 
Or some wild music sounding fitfully 
Whose notes*are angel-sweet but yet not glad. 

And with the subtle rays that gleam through shade 
Your face reflects the far-off moving strain, 
Your eyes are exquisite with tender pain, • 

From light and dream and sound that never fade. 

Oh, symbol of the night’s intensity 

With fairy foot on scarcely bending grass, 
Treading the beats of dreamful melody, 

Unnoting hearts you meet—but never pass- 
incarnate of celestial frost and fire, 

Not love’s you wake, but worship’s fine desire! 


MABEL. 


HAT is the fairest name? What syllables 



Are grace and music, which to speak aright 
Soul cannot teach the voice? Oh, star of night— 
Unequal synonym—yet in you dwells 
Reflection brightest! Fragrance that distils 
From orient gardens flashing flowery light 
Seems substance visible to the spirit’s sight, 


62 


FATIMA. 


In the mere word that tenderest thought compels. 
The pearly dews that glisten on the rose 
But yield the matchless flower purer flame; 

The flower heart to heaven dutiful 
Bedewed divinely more transcendent glows; 
Herein is beauty—heart doth make the name 
Irradiant, as the heart is beautiful. 


FATIMA. 


S ^J > HAT is the secret of her eyes, 

Whereat my spirit helpless bends, 
Where burns my heart in sacrifice 
But for the pain hath sweet amends? 


What is the secret of her face 
That lends the day a softer light? 
When fate doth rob me of its grace 
I wander in a starless night. 


What is the secret of her song, 

In whose enchantment linger I 
With trembling heart that hath no tongue 
To speak its sense of melody? 


What is the secret of her soul 
That mine forever at her feet 
Can never fly the silken thrall 

That life or death, for her, makes sweet? 




A BAKER MAID. 


63 


A BAKER MAID. 


£GILE, clear-eyed, like sun ray bright and warm, 
And dowered with the step and smile of spring. 
With soft a’dvance as is the blossoming 
Of flowers, She comes—the poetry of form. 

An amber flame glows through the folded hair; 

The perfect curves of nature’s liberty— 

As sensitive to sweetness in the air 
As violets—moving with dainty care 

An ear, transfer their magic to the face 
Wherein the spirit’s subtile'chemistry 
Leaves art abashed by affluence of grace, 

And mystic charm of changing imagery. 

Sweet dust of earth, the stars are coarser clay! 
They only brighten night—thou canst the day! 


SPRING. 


^JNDER the opened gates of Paradise 

Now swings the world, and through the soundless seas 
The wind swept heaven drops upon the trees 
The perfumes of celestial sacrifice; 


64 


SONG. 


Oh, leaves and flowers—sweetest mysteries— 
Thrilling our souls with voiceless madrigals, 
Are ye not ciphers writ on nature’s walls, 

The organ notes of future symphonies? 

Prophet blossoms! Earth’s winter has been Ion 
Eons of years, Oh, emerald, preaching leaves, 
Snow-banks of human hearts, glaciers of wrong 
But lo! it comes, the sun that all retrieves, 
The ages’ glass, the miracle of spring 
Doth shadow Time's majestic blossoming. 


SONG. 


| KNOW a heart so pure and fair, 

It seemeth me a flower most rare; 

Its beauty doth my senses woo 
Till that alone my thoughts pursue; 
Entranced I wander flowery meads 
Where fragrance sweet my fancy leads, 
To find perchance, in happy quest 
That flower-heart in flower exprest. 
Beloved heart, beloved flower, 

Thou art the garden’s dearest dower 
Beloved heart, beloved flower, 

Exhaling earth’s divinest power! 


SONG. 


65 


And if, alas! that flower shall droop its head— 
My garden ’reft, my flower dead! 

For me forever will the spell 
Of life be o’er, and I with sorrow dwell! 

But oh, star-flower, oh, heart, oh, eye,— 
’Tis earth’s appeal to star and sky— 
Beloved'flower, beloved star, 

Are light and fragrance thine afar. 
Beloved flower, beloved star, 

Shall love be thine in realms afar? 


SONG. 


JT may not be that love divine 
Shall not with star forever shine? 
It may not be that death or night 
From me shall veil the tender light 
That dims t-he star’s divinest beam 
With promise of immortal gleam? 
Beloved eye, in realms afar 
Still shalt thou be beloved star; 
Beloved eye, nor faint, nor far, 

Yet nearer, oh, beloved star! 


LIFE. 


66 

Nor night shall ever hold the dawn from thee 
Nor pulseless dust thy beauty be; 

Love’s sleep hath never dreamless night, 
Nor thou, oh, star shalt be bereft of light; 
Translucent with the fire and dew 
Celestial, thou shalt shine anew— 
Beloved eye, beloved star 
In earth so near and yet so far 
Beloved eye, beloved star, 

Thou shinest here—thou shalt afar. 


LIFE. 


Jj>IFE is, we know; but what is Life? Alone 

The Giver knows. The pulsing heart, the soul 
Conscious of itself and environment, 

But knowing not itself, yet dreams a goal 
Where it shall know—in purer light be known; 

A joy that touches heaven; discontent 
That’s hell; treading a pathway wonderful 
Through loves and hates, defeats or triumphs won; 
Divinest mystery of the universe, 

To stars akin, and all things beautiful, 

Unknowing till the tortuous journey’s done 
Whether it were a blessing or a curse; 

Yet still the soul must ask: What art thou, Strife, 
Thou Infinite, that darkly we call Life? 


RE-EXITENCE. 


67 


PRE-EXISTENCE. 


0NCE, on a sudden, at a word or scene, 

A wave of recollection flooded me— 

Brooks ancl flowers, with light of land and sea, 
Surpassing Eden in its mellow sheen, 

In one immortal moment fell between 
Myself and Time—revealing mystery 
Through the torn veil that shrouded history 
Of life that in the infinite had been. 

Is Time a river, only, that doth flow 
Prom sea to sea, with current gliding swift, 
Whereon, with start forgot, we mariners 
To Lethe float again? It is not so. 

On shores, backward, forward, the shadows lift 
Where Life was—will be, with the universe. 


RE-EXISTENCE. 


ypHE dust lay deep on paths that once I trod, 

Where hopes, like flowers, bloomed in every tr 
And withered afterward. I looked not back 
But forward pressed upon a weary road 


68 


DEAD. 


Until at last the journey had bestowed 
Forgetfulness. I noted not the lack 
Of what had been, and clouds no more were black— 
From death, it seemed, another life had flowed. 

What conjuring is this with name and face 
That brings the memories of lower skies, 

Nearer horizons of the earth and heart, 

Ideal days and nights, when nature’s grace 
Was glorified by light of stars and eyes 
That seemed to steal each others’ tenderest art? 


DEAD. 

^HE whom I loved is dead. 

Where is her grave? Alas! 
Weary through earth I pass 
Seeking her lowly bed. 

This flower of love I wear 
Her hand was wont to take; 

For memory’s sweet sake 
I fain would lay it there. 
***** 

You are not she whose head 
Leaned once upon my breast 
And gave my heart sweet rest— 
Ah. no! My love is dead. 


RONDEAU. 


69 


In your dark eyes I see 
Some fading gleams of her, 
Some careless dreams of her 
Who long ago loved me. 

Will you not take this rose 
And shrine it on your heart— 
Dead— there— she lies apart! 
Sweet be my love’s repose. 


RONDEAU. 


^HE kissed me once! Ah, sweet surprise 
That swept my soul with dreams and sighs- 
With dreams that spurned the boundary 
That fate had set of sand and sea 
Between our lives. O tearful eyes, 

Your sweet lightning flashed to me 
Wide heaven—and then, as suddenly, 

Left only this of paradise: 

S he kissed me once. 

Though she forgets—or maybe tries— 

That sweep of heart into her eyes, 


70 


IDALIA. 


Ever in loneliest revery 
Through the shadows it floats to me— 
The pathos of all melodies: 

She kissed me once. 


IDALIA. 


CgHE walked among us statuesque—not cold; 

Marble, that gave unto the deepest, sign 
Of feeling, humanly, the most divine; 

The light about her was the glint of gold 
Dug from dark mines of thought. Pages unrolled 
In eye and converse. They who caught their shine 
Sat still. In one, discoursed the Muses Nine, 
Imparting equal charm to new and old. 


Dreamer of dreams, but dreams that touch the soul 
To beautify, and lift to airs serene; 

Singer of songs, sweeping the harp of life 
With music rising over noisome strife; 

Kingdom she left, to be for one, the queen— 

And dream and song, thro’ heart, reached highest goal. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 




BAKER UNIVERSITY. 


73 


BAKER UNIVERSITY. 


IP HE darkness melts to light along the path of duty, 

And glory’s aureole crowns noble sacrifice; 

The night’s travail of shade gives birth to dawn of beauty,— 
And BAKER gleams resplendent to the prophet’s eyes. 

Flashed from brave hearts, and borne by faithful ones through 
trial,— 

’Twas as a torch that flickered through a stormy night; 

And that, to feed its flame the bread of self denial 
Made ashes, steadier rose and glowed diviner light. 

A factor of a state that set the floods in motion 
Whose shoreless billows soon the nation overran, 

And washed away the lie, fulfilled the fine devotion 
Our antique fathers vowed of loyalty to man. 

A factor of the state, and factor of its glory, 

Through wars and famine, builder of its thought and fame, 
And lends a luster to the glamour of its story, 

And stands on hearts, as Kansas stands—as proud a name. 


74 


FROM REUNION ADDRESS. 


Is it not worthy? O ye august shades of lovers 
Are ye not lovers still, and cloud of witnesses? 

Your light transfigured still around it kindly hovers, 
The seal celestial of immortal stateliness. 

Faith—and sight—are the substance of things hoped to¬ 
morrow— 

A glorious temple gilded by refining fire, 

Where forever the interest of prayers and sorrow 
Shall spirit stairways lift above the temple’s spire. 


FROM REUNION ADDRESS. 


g)ARDON a moment’s rhapsody— 

A panorama passes me! 

Climbing together on the stair 
Are youths and maidens debonair; 

The seekers after subtle light— 
Themselves its mirrors exquisite; 

And nature’s darlings grasping for 
What had been granted them, galore; 
Religio et Libert as, 

Where orators as leaves of grass 
Spring greenly up, to flower, and pass; 


FROM REUNION ADDRESS. 


to 


The hewers of the upward way, 

Rare spirits of Ecclesia — 

Ah! ’tis a goodly company 
Of dream ward, star ward travelers— 
If sudden quarrels break converse, 
The discords only glorify 
Succeeding bursts of harmony. 

The future in this present lies, 

And paints its promise in the skies. 

A toast, a dream, a prophecy— 

’Tis Baker University 
2000 Anno Domini— 

And mark it, you who live to see! 

A multitude of dizzy things 
That Albion’s seer divinely sings 
Will have become but ABC. 

A button pressed may light the sky, 
Where, driven by war’s extremity, 
Entrenched in cloud is Anarchy; 

And from a navy in the air 
Under command of Admiral Ware— 
Of the old block, a genuine chip— 
A-sailing in his ether ship 
Will let the forked lightnings slip 
To give the world a nobler peace, 
Mankind a new—and sweeter lease, 
And, of calamity, surcease. 


76 


FROM REUNION ADDRESS. 


But hold—the field-is infinite! 

Tow’rd Baker on that dazzling height 
Alone, I call your straining sight. 

Not by Parmenter’s placid lake 

Will Frats build arches, Greek meet Greek, 

But breathing noble fountains’ mist, 

And chewing Argon gum—and kissed— 

By floating perfumes—Baker maids 
Will lighten academic shades; 

The pigskin battles, streaming gore, 
Cheered on by idiotic roar, 

Succeeded by a higher mood, 

Will lapse to innocuous desuetude; 

Athletics giving grace and force 
To serve the spirit’s upward course; 

Art’s culture in the face and form 
Touching to life the latent charm— 

Beauty that sleeps in every breast 
To waken when by beauty kissed; 

In the carved halls, on shaven sward, 

The patriot, orator and bard 
In marbles shaped to poetry, 

With gleam of souls in porphyry; 

What erst were iridescent dreams, 

Ideals glimpsed in air and streams— 

From earthly shade to cloudy line, 

The vaguest into crystals wrought 
And mirrors infinite of thought 


FROM REUNION ADDRESS. 


77 


That sweeps from human to divine; 

Meaning in field and flower and tree— 

The spirit’s outward imagery; 

Religion, graven on the stone, 

By Christ illumined—brighter grown 
As truth’s ocean, flooding the years, 
Divinely flows through human fears; 

The stars within and suns without 
With mingled light expelling doubt— 

All blending noblest energy 
Teaching a wondrous destiny 
Through use of life and liberty, 

Will fashion youth that is to be. 

Life lifted to a plane sublime, 

The body and the soul shall rhyme; 

And moving in the bright’ning path 
That science clears when led by faith 
Baker, with dreamed-of symmetry, 

And flowering with the century, 

By powers that at birth began 

Must bloom with Time, and grow with Man. 


78 


MAPLES. 


MAPLES. 


J LIKE the maples—beautiful of form— 

Whose fluttering bulwarks stem the mystic tide 
Of wondrous hues that in the sunlight hide, 

Till fair they stand, transfigured, glorified, 

And wave their garnet banners ’gainst the storm. 

Anon, in dreamy haze, the ecstacy 
That thrills the leaf awakens in the breast 
Beauty and song forever unexpressed; 

And thought is sadder, sweeter—life is blest 
With rich suggestion of the life to be. 

***** 

I seem to see within the maple’s leaves 
A face more fair than mortals look upon; 

With voice divine, in melody of moan 
An old world love and pain in undertone 

A tearless Dryad sings, and singing, grieves, 
Once, under Springtime maples, bending low, 

The leafy flutter of a heart she heard— 

Was’t leaf or heart?—lighter than leaf the word— 
So sweet—yet as the careless note of bird 

That Spring forgets in ruddy Summer’s glow. 


TWO. 


79 


* * * * 

With story freighted all these maples are 
And whisper to their comrades of the wood 
The rythmic eloquence of solitude; 

And souls will hear that listen in the mood, 

In silences of forest, sea, and star. 

Witness and symbol of earth’s tragedies, 
What wonder that with sympathy divine 
Farewells you kiss us, clad in sorrow’s sign, 
Oblations seeming, as of blood and wine— 
Alas! O maples, and alack! O trees! 


TWO. 

CORSICAN. 


^ HEART self-centered, cold as Alpine snows, 
On mighty genius laid a mighty tax— 

A world—and armies trod the glaciers’ tracks; 
On ruined thrones a throne colossal rose; 

Then bartering broken hearts for kingly crowns,. 
Remorseless mounting on a crimson tide, 

By a mad world, a moment deified— 

Napoleon won—at last, eternal frowns; 

And so, by earth and heaven deserted, died. 


80 


LAW. 


AMERICAN. 

Look on the walls wherever Freedom dwells, 

And mark a soul outshining star or sun, 

A face that testifies of work well done, 

And brow world-svreathed with spirit immortelles 
He is hero who stands or falls in fight, 

His heart with simple Right in unison; 

And stand or fall, he wins a starry height, 

Ever to gleam and guide the world aright; 

Such was our country’s Father—Washington. 


LAW. 


PON the snow-clad Alps 
Huge rocks and glaciers lie 
In fearful balance poised 
Against the Alpine sky. 

That awful majesty 

Of silence, let none dare 
Disturb with one loud word, 

For sound is treason there. 


LAW. 


81 


The boulder feels the thrill 
And vibrates at the jar, 

And down the mountain’s side 
Flies like a falling star. 


On passion’s Alpine height 
In f)oise a nation lies, 

And one fierce word of might 
May win its sacrifice. 

The word that shakes the law 
Is treason’s baleful breath, 
Whose vibrant, fateful waves 
The nation hurl to death. 

Let him beware who speaks’, 

Let him who shouts take care, 
The glacier vengeance wreaks 
And leaves behind despair. 


82 


LAW AND FATE. 


LAW AND FATE. 


UJgET your heart on things abovel" 

Say the book and preacher; 

Too well, O heart, hast thou obeyed, 

For far above thee is the maid 
To whom thou hast the homage paid; 

And neither book nor preacher 
But love has been thy teacher; 

Ah! unhappy, happy I 

Who have set my heart so high! 

Fair she sat, divinely fair, 

And though the day was holy, 

The church reduced to one small pew, 

The pew to eyes translucent blue, 

And these that pierced me thro’ and thro f 
Informed me of my folly; 

O sweet, O sad, O bliss, O pain, 

To faint with love that wins disdain! 

I set my heart on one above, 

And vainly dream of love for love. 

“Love thy. neighbor as thy self l ” 1 
It is injunction golden. 


LAW AND FATE. 


83 


And law alone should hold one 
To render unto beauty 
The ecstasy of duty; 

I pass the law’s sweet letter— 

Who could to self be debtor 
When fate had forged her fetter? 
Dear night beside her ’neath the stars 
When o’er us swept Orion’s cars, 

Sweet Pleiades and stately Mars— 

Was ever night completer?— 

You leave me a,ye her prisoner, 

Guarded by two-edged saber— 

The Law—and Fate!—both minions are 
In this divine particular 

Of my transcendent neighbor. 

Weeping Pleiads, bright Orion,— 

Your beauty failing never— 
Remembrance be to her, to me, 

As night by night right royally 
You tread the ether to the sea, 

And though our pathways sever, 

Love her, as I, forever; 

The heart is better'lost above, 

. E’en though it break with sighing, 
Than stooping, basely waste its love— 
So help me, strong Orion! 


84 


OCCIDENS. 


OCCIDENS. 


JNTO the world’s lists rides 
A stranger cavalier, 

Into Thought’s tournament, 

And hath no fear. 

His mien of storm and sun, 
Flowers and eternal snows, 

Shows victory half won 
Through faith’s repose. 

Eastward he bows full low, 

With shield and lance at rest; 

For love and honor flow 
To East from West. 

Therefore, O knights renowned, 
Under the morning’s beam, 

Still fairer are you crowned 
By sunset’s gleam. 

Sweeter will be the light 
And lovelier the day, 

When touch your lances bright 
In friendly fray. 


INES RETURNED. 


85 


For in the world’s lists rides 
With shield and lance abreast, 
And in the lists abides 
The mighty West. 


INES RETURNED. 


0 saw ye not fair hies? 

She's gone into the west 
To dazzle when the sun is down 
And rob the world of rest. 

— Torn Hood. 


jpHE hue of those soft seas 

That gird the gardens of Hesperides, 
The sunset’s beauty, sorrow, 

Her eyes have seemed to borrow; 

Of Morn and Eve, To-morrow, 

Of great and tender lore, 

Of steps that come no more— 

Too sad, too wise to weep— 

Their dream is deep. 


86 


INES RETURNED. 


Her heart a lyre is, 

That’s strung to sing as the winds sing 
When low and sweet 

They woo the roses with their minstrelsy, 
Or fierce and fleet 

They hurl wild waves against the sky; 

In its pure tones, 

Delicious, clear, 

The meaning runs 
Of smile and tear ; 

The secret sweet and wise 
That dims the violet’s eyes; 

More vague and wondering, wild 
As the murmurings of a child, 

It voices human woes, 

The mountains crowned with snows, 
The clouds, the earth, the sea, 

Time, space, eternity. 

Her soul a fire is, 

Radiant of beams the stars fling; 

Serene and white, 

Shining through the darkness tenderly, 
Its golden light 

With gentle splendor steeps the night 
Of doubt and gloom 
That clouds the spirit to the tomb; 

Its depths are but a mirror 




FROM “ROMANCE OF JAPAN.” 


87 


Of truth and honest error; 

There, shadows of her song 
Are like a phantom throng 
That wait with bated breath 

For the ending of the history, 
The unfolding of the mystery 
Of Life, of Love, of Death. 


FROM “ROMANCE OF JAPAN.” 


jpHEN gentlier far than his rivers ran 
The gracious Mikado ruled Japan; 

Though to peace inclined, it was part of his plan 
To wallop occasionally 
His neighbor, the heathen Chinee. 

The casus belli from the annals is lost, 

But it may be Japan was provoked at the boast 
Of the inferior people down on the coast 
Who lauded their villainous tea— 

A strictly inferior tea; 

Of course it was really hard to endure 
By a proud hearted people whose tea was pure, 
And it seems that the needed chastisement 
By ancient Mikados in wisdom sent 


88 


FROM “ROMANCE OF JAPAN.” 


To the venders of spurious tea, 

Is a custom still—though they ought not to kill, 
But force them to drink their own tea. 

And wisely directing affairs of state 
He ordered his people to cultivate 
The plant whose delicate fragrances 
Beguile us now to blissfullest ease. 

And thus the Mikado grew gracefully old 
A-drinking that life-giving tea, 

And deeper in lore grew he; 

And oft with a far-away look in his eyes, 

With dream prophetic, in the western skies 
Seemed the future’s scroll, wherein he saw 
A banner reflecting the genius of Law. 

And then, with the ecstasy 
Of lofty communings that poets know, 

He spoke of the world to be— 

Of the queen of the west, at whose behest 
The ambient light of a marvelous white 
City arose in the sea— 

By the verge of an inland sea, 

Where the nations in rivalry 
Brought beauty the rarest and fabrics the fairest 
From every land of the sea; 

But the sheen of their climes was clouded betimes, 
And the freight of their ships came near to eclipse 
In the spacious shade of the dazzling dreams 


FROM “ROMANCE OF JAPAN. ” 


89 


That heavenward lifted in matchless gleams 
An Epic of Liberty. , 

And restfully watching the day’s decline, 
Deluded no more by deceitful wine, 

He looked through the crystalline tea, 
Discerning contentment better than gold, 

With the life of his life and the soul of his soul, 
As each day more lovely was she, 
Brewfing amber and gold in the tea 
And drinking in wisdom with Lee, 

Till their twilight fell as a tale that is told; 

And watching the mystical book unfold 
'Twas sweetly together their lives unrolled 
Toward the infinite sea,— 

Like twin stars that sink in the sea. 

THE QUEEN’S SONG. 

I heard a sweet singing yesternight — 

’ Twas a\ bird in the grove; 

He sang , and, he sang in the fading light 
Of love , of love. 

0 my heart was singing yesternight 
Like a bird in the grove; 

The perfumes of flowers and the fading light 

Fell into the song with ravishing might , 

There were rapturous echoes from every height: 

11 0 love, sweet love!" 


90 


THE HILLS OF ARKANSAS. 


THE MIKADO’S SONG. 

Sweetheart, sweetheart! 

Stars are whispering, waves are saying 
11 Sweetheart, sweetheart /’ ’ 

Love is not love that loves delaying. 

That tarries from love that for love is praying, 
And life is not life that lives in playing 
Sweetheart, sweetheart. 

Sweetheart, sweetheart! 

Eyes of tenderness hath replying 
Sweetheart, sweetheart! 

Eyes that glisten with light undying, 

Eyes like thine meet no denying; 

For thee, for thee 
Heart of mine is ever sighing 
Sweetheart, sweetheart! 


THE HILLS OF ARKANSAS. 


J WOULD I were a boy again, 

Climbing the hills of Arkansaw— 
Not as of yore, with armed men 
Sworn to defend the flag and law— 
Ah, no! rather forgotten be 
That far and sad inharmony! 


THE HILLS OF ARKANSAS. 


91 . 


No captain, colonel, general, 

A shouldering grades of dignity, 

To check the spirit’s madrigal 
Born of the mountain’s liberty; 

Oh, no! deliver me from these 

And leave me with the rocks and trees! 

A-courting life—not ghastly death— 
Quaffing elixirs of the soul 
And body, rife in nature’s breath 
Mid the sublime and beautiful! 
Unburdened of a clanging sword 
The mountains lift one heavenward. 

There, loafing with the boulders, or, 

For nerves to last a century 
Clambering—ah! that indeed were war 
For blood—not as by sword’s decree— 
But ruddy gains from air and sun 
For life, through lofty paths to run. 

O hills and vales of Arkansaw, 

Your springs of crystal, winding streams 
That mirror skies without a flaw 
Are pictures, exquisite of dreams! 

And with you, like your birds, as free, 

A boy unfolding I would be. 


*92 


THE FAN. 


THE FAN. 


JgEHOLD this Fan! 

From far Japan 
’Twas brought for Thee; 

; Tis genuine Japanese— 

Fair girl, accept it, please, 

And when it stirs a breeze 
Think now and then of me. 

If you shall flirt 
This fan to hurt 
Some vain, fond man, 

Whose life has sadly panned out 
With hopes at last so fanned out,— 
Oh, who indeed then can doubt 
That he will curse Japan? 

The wind is ill 
That blows to kill— 

Beware, beware! 

Your hand that’s white and seemly, 
When vibrant soft, serenely, 

Hath power strange and queenly— 
So fair! Take care! 




SIXTEEN. 


93 


SIXTEEN. 


B UT just in life’s enchanted morning, 
Fairest of all the town’s adorning; 

Her smile is like the radiant spring 
When Nature’s sweets are blossoming; 

Dancing from April into May, 

Ideal of their brightest day; 

Untouched of any darker power, 

Ideal of their fairest flower; 

The heart, the voice responsive chimes 
The music of the poet’s rhymes; 

In cloudless eyes the crescent sign 
Of soul to sparkle as the wine; 

Expectant at the rosiest gate 
Of all that for her footsteps wait, 

The matchless tableau of the bud 
Flowering to fairest womanhood! 

O sunshine, wrap her with your gold, 
That youth be won ere she be oldi 


94 


ENIGMA. 


O hearts an ear, instill secure 
The precious wisdom of the pure! 

That life from loftiest eminence 
Flame heavenward in sweet incense. 


ENIGMA. 


p^RAMED in this metric jumble, pure and fair, 

Caressing with a clasp of tenderness the rhyme— 
Of names, a name most musical and rare! 

Her name whose soft blue eyes doth shine 
Significant of soul—diviner than a star. 

Scan well the verse—each syllable and line— 
Concealed with tender art—oh, dreamily it lies 
In slumbers soft as ’twere in Paradise. 

Sweet flower of Love!—But rose nor violet 
Is emblem fit of her in whose clear cheeks are met 
The subtler sweets of all things fair in earth or skies. 



QUATRAINS. 


95 


QUATRAINS. 


JAMES H. LANE. 

^ ENIUS and madness mixed a fateful fire 

That burned him to ashes—but through the flame 
A star arose that ever must aspire, 

And in its light forever glows his name. 

JOHN BROWN. 

A stern soul nurtured at the dugs of Right, 

From whom color hid not the man divine; 

Leagued with the weak—so with the Infinite— 

His blood gave to the flag its conquering sign. 


SOLDIERS. 


A word from heaven on a banner fell 

And mirrored in his soul its fateful beauty, 
Nor battle’s carnage ever broke the spell, 

Nor prisons hid from him the light of duty. 


Two fears within him fight—one falls, not dead; 

The victor is his master, and through gore 
The slave is lashed to heroism by dread— 

Still, fearing death, he fears dishonor more. 


96 


QUATRAINS. 


Ill (?) 

u ’Tis true, I trembled at the cannon’s roar,— 

The earth was shaking, could I help it, pray? 

And earthquakes, sir, I never bargained for 
When I enlisted, so I ran away.” 

LIFE. 

Thro’ the earth’s mists to look from heart to heart 

Is to misunderstand and walk apart; 

Then, through the clouded distance of regret 

Backward to gaze, and never to forget. 

POETRY. 

i. 

From halfway up God’s mount floats minstrelsy; 

(The voice that sings cannot but choose to sing) 

The sound-pearls drop dissolving in the sea 

Of human hearts, and tides toward heaven spring. 

ii. 

Poetry is the struggle of the soul 

Toward angels’ speech.—’Tis a divining rod, 

Invoking from all deeps their bliss and dole, 

And shadows of the mysteries of God. 
hi. 

’Tis all things true and good and beautiful, 

The essences divine of dark and bri ght; 

Star-kindled incense that doth burn one soul 
To give to others fragrance, beauty, light. 


DOROTHY. 


9 


GERTRUDE. 


S 


TRUNG for music, modest Gertrude 
Sets to music all her classmates. 


Student of the Master’s measure, 
Hearing words like rain-drops patter, 
Noting all their varied music, 
Marking with a subtle spirit, 
Choosing with the soul of poet, 
Gertrude, fairer Laughing Water, 
With the bird-song’s sweet abandon 
Sings of others till our fancy 
Charmed, is centered in the singer. 

In the voice that praises culture, 
Culture voices culture’s beauty. 

From the roses of Chetopa 
Wreathe a crown for poet Gertrude. 


DOROTHY. 


Jj^HOUGH we’ve known her but a day, 
Yet so fair a maiden she 
Something sweet has come to stay 
With us when she goes away 
Like the spell of poetry. 


98 


AWAKE. 


Flowers now are dying, Sweet, 
But in you they live again; 

And when winter sounds retreat 
Spring will come with merry feet 
Rippling music in the rain. 

Grace unfolding every where 
Bursting leaves and melody, 
Flowers, flowers, and to spare. 
But not one that may compare 
With our winsome Dorothy . 


AWAKE. 


7T WAKE! awake! the dreamful night is done 
And light is flying from the rising sun, 
Awake! awake! 

No grief is like the sorrow of the night, 

No joy is sweeter than the touch of light, 
Awake! awake! 

Wake, doubting soul, forever from the past, 
Life blossoms into nobler life at last. 

Awake! awake! 


THE DYING YEAR. 


99 


THE DYING YEAR. 


|j>AST night a shivering form went by :— 
The wandering echo of a sigh 
Was all the sad wind caught,—a plaint 
Undying, though so low and faint, 

That only finer souls may hear, 

And saddest hearts may know how drear; 

No print of foot upon the snow 
Revealed his weariness and woe; 

But dim as shadow in a dream, 

As gliding through a misty gleam 
Of far fair stars, I marked his eye, 

And saw a soul that could not die; 

What dreams, what hopes, what loves it bore, 
I felt through all my bosom’s core, 

And all the sorrow in me yearning, 

Seemed mirrored in its pale, sweet burning; 
Dear forms that press the heavenly portal, 
Dear hands now twining wreaths immortal, 
Seemed hovering, as by magic spell 
To wave again a sad farewell; 

.... Then far beyond a mystic river, 

I lo^t his fleeting form forever. 


100 


“no more sea.” 


“NO MORE SEA/' 


plO more sea! 

® In tempests cleaving waters dark 
No fated bark! 

No argosy 

Freighted with youth and love and gold 
And faring merrily 
Toward the haven’s fold 
Hurled on the rocky shore 
To sink dread fathoms to the sandy floor 
Of ocean hoar! 

No cry 

Of seabirds wheeling by 
Answering the agony 
Of life in battle with the night 

Leagued with the fearful might 
Of waves in flight! 

Nor leaden sky 
Shall mock the sigh 
Of mother clasping child, 

Helpless in waters wild, 

Flinging her soul in prayer 


“no more sea.” 


101 


Against despair, 

When there shall be 
No more sea. 

And O, the sea! 

That overspreads the land 
Afar from ocean’s strand, 

Never again 
Your ruthless rain! 

No more 

The tides will swell 
Of seas invisible, 

Strewing the shore 
With wrecks eluding sight! 

Nor ships that pass in night 
And sail, and sail, 

Uncharted, yet with merry hail 

Trumpet, “All’s well, All’s well!” 

But O, the bell 
Piercing the soundless gale 
With notes of dole, 

Heard only by the soul! 

O Seas 

Whose bitter lees 

Men drink to perish, women to weep. 
Whose billows sweep 
Where hope lies down to sleep 
And wakens in the deep, 


102 


“no more sea. r 


Thou too, forever fled, 

Thy power dead! 

Ah! what shall be 
When no more sea 

In drear complaining beats against the shore 
What is in store, 

What fruit upon the tree 
That men shall eat nor hunger more? 

It hath not entered into heart 
Of man to dream 

What cometh when the seas depart. 

The fabled gleam 
Of precious stones, 

The garniture of orient thrones, 

Must fade away 
In such a day, 

Where no night falls 
Upon the jasper walls. 

No night, 

Though sun hath taken flight, 

Nor tears shall lave the floor 
Of that fair city, when the sea 
Recedes forever from the open door 
Of the new earth and heaven, 

And is no more. 









J. M. CAVANESS. 






DEVOTIONAL. 














































CONSIDER THE LILIES. 


Q^ONSIDER the lilies, how they grow 
They toil not, neither do they spin: 
Thus spake the anointed Son of God, 
While wandering in this world of sin 
The great and wise king Solomon, 

The pride of all the monarchies, 

In all the glory of his power, 

Was not arrayed like one of these. 


Consider the lilies: He would teach 
The anxious hearted sons of toil, 
That God regards the humblest flower 
That lifts its head above the soil. 
Unto the faithless he would show 
Thus how the Father’s tender care 
Is over all that he hath made, 

In heaven or earth or sea or air. 


CONSIDER THE LILIES. 


6 

Consider the lilies : once a bulb 

Enwrapped its shapeless life unseen; 

What hidden powers combined to weave 
Its beauteous garb of white and green! 

Oh, flower of loveliness and grace, 

The One who formed yon blazing star, 
With beauty thee hath also crowned— 

So pure and white thy petals are, 

Consider the lilies : that which forms 
Their snowy petals’ rounded fold, 

Was taken from the elements 

Within earth’s procreative mold; 

Thro nature’s subtle chemistry 
And influences pure and sweet, 

They sprang to life, and slowly grew 
To form and loveliness complete. 

Consider the lilies : as they give 
Beauty of shape to lifeless earth, 

So man, once cold and dead in sin, 

Is made alive thro heavenly birth. 

From out the chrysalis of death, 

To which his state resemblance bore, 

He rises on the wings of faith 
Toward heaven and Christ and God to soar. 


CONSIDER THE LILIES. 


7 


Consider the lilies : pearly dew 
Upon their waiting leaves distilled: 
With gentle showers from above 

Their petaled mouths were often filled. 
Why should not man as eagerly 
Open his heart to heavenly grace, 

And let the love this grace inspires 
Find there a sure abiding place. 

Consider the lilies : how yon sun 
Doth pencil with his gentle beam, 

With tints as delicate and rare 

As make an artist’s joy and dream. 
Thus he so truly called the Sun 

Of Righteousness, in colors bright, 

On human hearts his impress leaves, 

In living characters of light. 

Consider the lilies : thus he spake, 

Who walked and talked in G-alilee; 

Oh, may he bring new hope, new life, 
New love, good friends, to you and me! 
And as the lilies fill the air 

With fragrance heavenly and unpriced, 
So goodness should exhale from those 
Who are disciples of the Christ. 


8 


CONSIDER THE LILIES. 


Consider the lilies : may the One— 

The Lily of the Valley called— 

Impress his image on our souls, 

Till all are with his love enthralled; 

And may we wear above our hearts 
This fairest flower the earth hath borne, 
Till we shall all his beauty see, 

On Resurrection’s happy morn. 

- Consider the lilies, how they grow: 

Thus spake the One divinely wise, 

Who gave new beauty to the earth, 

While wandering neath Judean skies. 
With loving hand, some common flowers 
Of poesy, nor rare nor sweet, 

A humble follower here brings, 

And lays them at the Master’s feet. 


MY SON, GIVE ME THINE HEART. 


9 


MY SON, GIVE ME THINE HEART. 
proy. 23:26. 

O Lord, I give to Thee my heart; 

It is a worthless thing,— 

A bird with broken wing, 

That cannot fly or sing, 

Since wounded by sin’s poisoned dart. 

Oh, take it, Lord, and heal the wouud, 
Before the rankling sore 
Shall reach the inner core, 

And soundness shall no more 
In any part therein be found. 

O Lord, apply thy cooling balm, 

And ease the piercing pain, 

That racks this weary brain; 

In mercy bring again 
The sweet repose, the holy calm. 

And then, O Lord, when Thou hast healed 
This sin-sick heart of mine, 

By grace and power divine, 

With glory it shall shine, 

And Christ, my Lord, shall be revealed. 


10 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS! 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS! 


0 FATHER, hear me! 

My heart to thee now crieth 
For help in time of sorrow; 
Delay not till the morrow, 

But now, ere day light dieth, 

O Father, hear me! 

O Father, guide me! 

The way is dark before me; 

I know not where it tendeth, 
Until more light thou sendeth, 
And thou in love restore me; 

O Father, guide me! 

O Father shield me! 

The arrows of temptation 
Distress and sorely wound me; 
Oh, quickly throw around me 
Thy helmet of salvation; 

O Father, shield me! 


OUT OF THE DEPTHS! 


11 


O Father, help me! 

In bitterness I call thee; 

For vain is help of human, 
Strong man or tender woman; 
Oh, come ere death befall me; 

O Father, help me! 

O Father, take me! 

My empty hands are lifted 
To thee in mute petition; 

Oh, see my sad condition; 

As wheat I have been sifted; 

O Father, take me! 

O Father, hold me! 

The waters surge about me; 
Man’s help is unavailing; 

My arm of flesh is failing, 

And I shall sink without thee; 

O Father, hold me! 

O Father, save me! 

Thine arm alone can reach me; 
Place me where no storm rages 
Upon the Rock of Ages, 

And songs of triumph teach me; 
O Father, save me! 


12 BEHOLD HE STANDETH AT THE DOOR! 


BEHOLD, HE STANDETH AT THE DOOR! 


J^EHOLD, he standeth at the door! 

It is the rosy morn of youth, 

And he, the Way, the Life, the Truth, 

Is gently knocking at thy heart; 

He listens, and will not depart. 

Dear child, ere come the evil days, 

And Sin thy innocence betrays, 

Oh, wilt thou not unloose the door? 

Behold, he standeth at the door! 

Years pass. It is the noon of life; 

Thy soul is vexed with sin and strife. 

There, ’mid the noon-tide’s dust and heat, 
With countenance so sadly sweet. 

The Savior patiently doth stand. 

Still knocking with that nail-scarred hand;— 
Oh, wilt thou not unloose the door? 



BEHOLD HE STANDETH AT THE DOOR! 13 


Behold, he standeth at the door! 

The evening sun declineth fast, 

And manhood’s prime is almost past; 
And yet the Savior lingereth still, 

While burning tears his eyelids fill. 

He waits unweariedly to hear 
The fall of footsteps drawing near;— 
Oh, wilt thou not unloose the door? 

Behold, he standeth at the door! 

Life’s little day is almost done; 

Its lingering sands drop one by one. 

The night’s chill dews are on his locks, 
But still the Savior stands and knocks, 
And ere death’s darkening shadows fall, 
He makes a last, sad, pitying call,— 

Oh, wilt thou not unloose the door? 

Behold, he standeth at the door! 

And listens now with bated breath, 

Yet all within is still as death. 

The sleeping conscience feels no harm; 
The will is dead, palsied the arm. 

Oh, better hadst thou ne’er been born 
Than thus a Savior’s love to scorn:— 
Thou canst not now unloose the door! 


14 


RESIGNATION. 


RESIGNATION. 


J|JO thee, O Christ, I all resign; 

In shade or sun, 

Help me to pray, “Thy will, not mine, 
O Lord, be done. ” 

It does not trouble me how long 
I stay below; 

When He to whom our souls belong 
Says “Come,” I’ll go. 

I do not ask a happy lot, 

While I may live; 

I shall receive, and question not, 

What Christ may give. 

I do not ask to be exempt 
From grief or pain; 

God never doth afflict or tempt 
But for our gain. 



RESIGNATION. 


15 


I do not ask to be at ease, 

From labor freed; 

To do whatever Christ shall please 
I humbly plead. 

I do not ask for wordly wealth, 

Or fame to win; 

I want the spirit’s perfect health,— 
Freedom from sin. 

I ask not for a host of friends 
My life to cheer, 

If only Christ the sinners’ Friend 
Is ever near. 

I do not dread the silent grave, 

The cold, damp tomb; 

For he who died our souls to save 
Dispelled its gloom. 

When I, concealed by coffin lid, 

Lie neath the sod, 

May it be said, My life was hid 
With Christ in God. 


16 


GUIDE ME. 


GUIDE ME. 

0UIDE me, O my Savior, 
In the starless night; 

Let thy sacred presence 
Fill m} r soul with light: 

Then tho clouds may gather 
Thick and dark and low, 

Onward in my journey 
Safely I will go. 

Guide me, O my Savior, 

In the day light’s glare; 

May no net of Satan 
My poor feet ensnare. 

May the work thou givest 
Fill my heart and hand, 

Till at heaven’s portals 
Waiting I shall stand. 

Guide me, O my Savior, 
Every day and hour; 

Keep me, soul and body. 

By thy grace and power; 

Then I ne’er shall wander 
From the living way, 

And my path grow brighter 
Till the perfect day. 


LEAN HARD, MY CHILD. 


IT 


LEAN HARD, MY CHILD. 


|j>EAN hard, my child; 

And let thy weary, throbbing head, 

Lie trustingly upon my breast, 

And there thy soul shall find sweet rest, 
And in my love be comforted; 

Lean hard, my child. 

Lean hard, my child: 

Some earthly treasure hast thou lost 
That makes thy heart a dreary waste? 
Then to my outstretched arms make haste 
Blessings I give beyond all cost: 

Lean hard, my child. 

Lean hard, my child: 

Has bitter disappointment come, 

And left a shadow on thy life, 

That makes thee weary of its strife? 

My joy shall banish all thy gloom: 

Lean hard, my child. 


18 


LEAN HARD, MY CHILD. 


Lean hard, my child: 

I know the auguish of thy soul; 

I poised the dart that made the wound 
That rankles in the spot unsound; 

My sovereign balm can make thee whole; 
Lean hard, my child. 

Lean hard; my child: 

Thy stricken heart within thee cries 
For comfort in a world untrue; 

’Twas false to me as well as you; 

Look straight into thy Savior’s eyes; 
Lean hard, my child. 

Lean hard, my child: 

There is no grief I have not known; 

I feel thy every throb of pain; 

I count thy tears that fall like rain; 
Then come to me, my loved, my own; 
Lean hard, my child. 

Lean hard, my child, 

And trust the Father-heart of love; 

As clouds shall vanish these sad year. 
And God shall wipe away all tears, 
When in his mansions fair above; 

Lean hard, my child. 


THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 


THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 


J HEAR the deep-toned evening bell 
That calls to prayer; 

A joyful sound of praise is borne 
Upon the air. 

There go the thoughtful worshipers, 
With true desire, 

That on each waiting heart may come 
Refining fire. 

The gray-haired sire with wrinkled brow 
But smiling face, 

With heart attuned to heavenly praise, 

Is in his place. 

The man who bears the noonday’s heat. 
Tho worn with toil, 

Rejoices here to spend an hour 
From mammon’s moil. 


20* 


THE HOUR OF PRAYER. 


The youthful follower of the Lord, 
With steady tread, 

Comes that he may receive from Christ 
The living bread. 

They talk of mercies rich and free 
That Cod bestows; 

Recount the blessings of their lives, 
And not their woes. 

A venerable saint speaks of the time, 
When first forgiven; 

Tells of the joy that fills his heart 
In hope of heaven. 

A young disciple longs to stay, 

To work and win, 

With loving words, soul after soul 
From ways of sin. 

They all revere and love and praise 
Their common Lord; 

And strengthen and refresh their souls 
Upon his Word. 

And as they sing with joyful hearts 
‘'Nearer to Thee,” 

Each soul comes nearer to the Rock 
That’s “Cleft for Me.” 


I AM THE LORD'S. 


21 


I AM THE LORD’S. 

ISA. XLIV, V. 

J AM the Lord’s. A joy untold 

Wells up within my heart of hearts, 
Like waters from a living spring: 

The Almighty arm doth now enfold, 
Protecting me from Satan’s darts 
And every evil thing. 

I am the Lord’s. My willing feet 

Shall tread the ways of righteousness, 
And mercy’s errands gladly run. 

Oh, may I ever stand complete 
In him whose wondrous love doth bless 
All creatures neath the sun. 

I am the Lord’s. My ready hand 
Will labor in the the Master’s cause. 
And press the battle to the gates. 

May Christ, my king, in every land, 
March onward without let or pause; 
For him the world now waits. 


9 


WHEN MY SPIRIT ONCE IS FREE. 


I am the Lord’s. My soul hath made 
A covenant with eye and ear; 

I will not look on ways of sin, 
However gaudily arrayed; 

This be my constant aim to hear 
The voice of G-od within. 

I am the Lord’s, and he is mine; 

The life that I now live below 
Is hid with Christ the Son of God: 
May I reflect the life divine 
Most clearly till I hence shall go 
To rest beneath the sod. 


WHEN MY SPIRIT ONCE IS FREE. 


ff j^J’HEN my spirit once is free 
From this tenement of clay, 
Like a dove I ’ll fly away 
Far bevond the crystal sea. 


I’ve a mansion in that place. 

Long prepared by Christ the Lord, 
For those faithful to his word; 
There I’ll see him face to face,— 


WHEN MY SPIRIT ONCE IS FREE. 


See him for myself alone, 

Look into his tender eyes, 

With a sweet and glad surprise, 

And a love before unknown. 

I shall grasp his loving hand, 

That dear hand that bled for me, 
When ’twas nailed to Calvary’s tree, 
By the cruel soldier band. 

I shall hear his gentle voice, 

Speaking with a tenderness, 

Like a mother’s sweet caress, 
Making heart and soul rejoice. 

I shall walk the golden street, 

With a nature undefiled, 

G-od’s own loved and loving child, 

In my Savior made complete,— 

There to live in light and truth, 

While eternal ages roll, 

Bearing on their tide my soul, 
Vestured with immortal youth. 


24 


ANOTHER DAY. 


ANOTHER DAY. 


7JNOTHER day, 

^ A day of toil and sadness; 

Without a ray 
Of comfort or of gladness, 

Has passed away. 

Oh, life! Oh, love! 

What’s one without the other. 

O God above, 

This world is false; another, 

I long to prove. 

Ye years of time, 

Oh, speed you in your flying; 

Ye heavenly clime, 

For your sweet rest I’m sighing, 
And joys sublime. 

In that fair home 
There’s nothing false or fleetiug; 

Beneath its dome 
All joys are pure, none cheating; 
Oh, glad day, come! 


ABIDE IN ME. 


25 


ABIDE IN ME. 


n 


BIDE in me, O Jesus, thou 
Who art so full of truth and grace, 


And evermore while time shall last 
Make thou my heart thy dwelling place. 
Conform my every thought and word, 

My every heart-throb to thine own, 

And do thou reign within my soul 
Without a rival and alone. 


Abide in me, thou holy One, 

Thou who wast never touched by sin, 
And give me thine own righteousness, 
And I shall be all pure within. 

Tear down the idols of my hands, 
Restore thine image to my heart, 
And keep it there by power divine, 

Nor let it ever henc§ depart. 


26 


ABIDE IN ME. 


Abide in me, thou bleeding One, 

Thou who didst die on Calvary, 

And neath the shadow of that cross * 
Which sins of mine didst raise for thee 
I stay, and let the cleansing blood 
That flowed so freely from thy veins, 
Forever drip upon my soul, 

Removing all of sin’s dark stains. 

Abide in me, thou mighty One, 

To whom all power in earth and heaven 
To whom the kingdoms of this world, 
And keys of death and hell, are given; 
And thro the strength thy Spirit gives, 

I shall be steadfast to the end; 
O’ershadowed by thy sheltering wings, 

I fear no evils that portend. 

Abide in me, and I in thee,— 

Oh, let me know that I am thine; 

I owned of thee, and thou of me, 

And that forever thou art mine; 

And let the love that rules thy heart 
Forever reign within my breast, 

And guide me in the way of peace 
That opens to eternal rest. 


MORN BY MORN. 


27 


MORN BY MORN. 


DEUT. XXXIII, XXV. 


ffi ORN by morn God’s ancient people 
Gathered manna for the day; 
Present strength for present burdens 
Is the Lord’s appointed way. 


Dost thou in thy heavenly journey 
See a lion in the street? 

It is chained and cannot harm thee; 
Onward press with steady feet. 

Does a mountain in the distance 
Rise, and fill thee with despair? 
Climb its sides, and on its summit 
Breathe a sweeter, purer air. 


Is a river in the pathwa}' 

’Twixt thee and the mount of God? 
Smite it with faith’s mighty mantle; 
Thou shalt cross it then dry-shod. 


28 


life’s sea. 


Tho a desert should surround thee, 
And its sands about thee roll, 

It hath oases with fountains 

Where thou canst refresh thy soul. 

Child of heaven, why then borrow 
Troubles for some future day? 

Coming woes like coming darkness 
With the morn shall flee away. 

O my blessed Lord and Master, 

G-ive thy child, I humbly plead, 

Daily strength for daily trial, 

Daily grace for daily need. 


LIFE’S SEA. 


^ LITTLE mariner I am 
On life’s tempestuous sea, 

And whether deep or whether wide, 

It matters not to me. 

It is an ocean wild, unknown, 
Uncrossed by me before, 

Whose dark and swiftly rolling waves 
Sweep toward an unseen shore. 




life’s sea. 


29 


I drift not with the flowing tide, 

Before the howling gale; 

I steer by compass tried and true, 

And never known to fail. 

When storms arise and threaten hard 
My bark to overwhelm, 

I calmly wait; my Father’s hand 
Is resting on the helm. 

I have a Captain brave on board, 

The Man of Galilee, 

Whose word brings calmness to the soul 
As well as to the sea. 

I listen ’mid the clash of waves 
To hear my Captain’s call, 

As o’er the sea and o’er my soul 
The specter-shadows fall. 

The night is long, the heavens dark, 

The voyage rough and drear; 

And yet the Captain’s tender voice 
Is full of hope and cheer. 

Perhaps my bark is nearing now 
The dim horizon’s bar,— 

The border of the unseen world, 

So near, and yet so far. 


30 


CHRIST ALL AND IN ALL. 


The dawn of day may soon reveal 
The haven of the blest, 

Where stands the city beautiful, 
And where my soul shall rest. 

Then let the clouds be dark above; 

The wild waves roll and foam; 
Each onward sweeping of the tide 
But brings me nearer home. 


CHRIST ALL AND IN ALL. 


Q^OME weal or come woe, or come pleasure or pain, 
Come days of prosperity, seasons of loss; 

Come spring-time or winter, come sunshine or rain, 
Come ravishing joy or a burdensome cross. 

Come mornings of rose-tinted promise and hope 
Of never a cloud or a tear or a care, 

But followed when shades to the orient slope, 

By twilights of sorrow and nights of despair. 

Come friends that are false or come friends that are true, 
Come enemies misunderstanding my heart; 

Come clouds of thick darkness or skies that are blue, 
Come griefs or come joys that remain or depart. 


LOOK UP, LIFT UP. 


31 


Come journeyings oft in a wilderness way, 

Come valleys of Marah or mounts of delight;. 

Come visions of rapture that only betray, 

Come songs in the day-time or dirges at night. 

Come woes without number, come blessings unpriced, 
Come death and the narrow house under the sod; 

Come any or all, but oh, come to me, Christ, 

Thou Son of the Highest, thou Chosen of God. 

With my will completely surrendered to thine, 

My paths will be peaceful and pleasant my ways; 

With thy spirit evermore dwelling in mine, 

My gloom will be gladness, my pain will be praise. 


LOOK UP, LIFT UP. 


Jj^OOK up to Christ upon the cross, 

Nor think to measure any loss 
With that eternal, priceless gain 
That comes thro Calvary’s blood and pain. 

Look up in dark temptation’s hour 
And know that no Satanic power 
Can wrest thee from his mighty hand, 
Who doth revolving worlds command. 


32 


LOOK UP, LIFT UP. 


Look up, look up in faith to him 
Who dwells beneath the cherubim; 
He can your every want supply, 
Therefore to him direct your eye. 

Lift up thy brother lowly bowed 
Beneath his sins, that as a cloud 
Obscure the cross’s kindly light, 
And keep his soul in nature’s night. 

Lift up the faltering, falling one 
Before the tempter’s work is done; 
Restore him to his loving Lord, 

By helpful hand, by gentle word. 

Lift up, lift up the poor, the weak, 
The lost and lone ones ever seek; 
And when in heaven, one brief day 
Will all thy earthly toil repay. 



DEDICATORY HYMNS. 


33 


DEDICATORY HYMNS. 


SUNG AT M. E CHURCH, CHETOPA, SEPT. 4 , 1870 . 


Q GOD of love and truth and grace, 

In whom we move and act and live, 

We humbly come before thy face, 

And to thy name all glory give. 

Thy servants in this western wild 
Have builded here a house to thee; 

Where lately roamed the forest child 
They raise the bulwarks of the free. 

To thee we dedicate to day 
This temple sacred to thy name; 

And ever on its altars may 
There glow and burn love’s holy flame. 

Accept the labor of the hand, 

Accept the offering of the heart, 

And never while these walls shall stand 
May thy blest presence hence depart. 


34 


DEDICATORY HYMNS. 


Oh, grant that here thy pardoning grace, 
Thy cleansing power may be made known; 
May scores of sinners, in this place 
Redeemed and saved, their Savior own. 

May here be given the Bread of Life; 

From here go forth the living Word, 

Until this land of sin and strife 
Blooms as a garden of the Lord. 


CORNER-STONE LAYING OF NEW M. E. CHURCH, 


NOV. 13 , 1894 . 


E build to day in Jesus’ name 
A temple fair, an altar home; 

Let stone and beam be laid with prayer, 
From solid earth to highest dome. 


Its walls may be inlaid with pearls, 
And unto heaven reach its spire; 
But all is vain unless there burns 
On altars true G-od’s holy fire. 


In'God’s great temple here on earth, 
There is but one foundation stone; 
’Tis not in dogma or in creed, 

But in our Lord, the Christ, alone. 


DEDICATORY HYMNS. 


35 


Then bring your offerings, silver, gold, 
And lay them all at Jesus’ feet; 

And may we all, with temple fair, 

Be ever found in him complete. 

And let us build in faith and prayer 
A holy temple to the Lord, 

Wherein may dwell the God of truth, 
From which may go the living Word. 


SUNG AT DEDICATION OF NEW M. E. CHURCH, 


MARCH 10 , 1895 . 

0 LORD, our souls arise to thee, 
In gratitude and praise, 

For all the blessings of thy love 
That crown our earthly days. 

To us thou hast been in the past 
A dwelling-place secure; 

And will be in the years to come 
A rock and refuge sure. 

We come to day to honor thee 
With what our hands have raised; 
And for this work by love inspired, 
Let Christ the Lord be praised. 


36 


DEDICATORY HYMNS. 


May here thy truth be preached to all, 
The bread of life be given, 

Until the New Jerusalem 

Comes down to earth from heaven. 

Oh, make this house, Jehovah, Lord, 

A temple of thy grace; 

And may the souls ingathered here 
In heaven see thy face. 


SECOND HYMN. 

0 LORD of Hosts, we come to day, 

With grateful hearts to praise and pray 
While here we hold communion sweet, 

Let glory crown the mercy seat. 

Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly dove, 

Descend, thou messenger of love, 

And may we all with heart and voice 
In thy redeeming grace rejoice. 

Come on us as refini ng fire, 

Consume in us each base desire, 

And make each heart a temple fair, 

With Christ enthroned and reigning there. 

Oh, may the truth proclaimed this hour 
Win captive souls from Satan’s power; 
And may tby saints feed on thy Word, 

And love and fear their common Lord. 


SOMETIME. 


37 


SOMETIME. 


<^OMETIME in the near or far off future, 

There comes a day, 

When these weary feet no more shall wander 
Life’s tiresome way. 

Sometime these poor, tired hands their cunning 
Shall cease to try; 

And upon my cold, unheaving bosom, 

All pulseless lie. 

Sometime music’s voice upon these heart-strings 
Shall strike no chord; 

Its throbs responsive to its notes so tender 
Will not be heard. 

Sometime scenes of earth will slowly vanish 
With fading sight; 

And the windows of the soul will sparkle 
No more with light. 

Sooner than I think the eternal morning 
May break on me; 

When its light shall dawn, may I awaken, 

O Lord, with thee. 


38 


EVERY YEAR. 


Then may these glad feet, no longer weary, 
Walk streets of gold; 

May my glad eyes then in open vision 
My Lord behold. 

May I feast upon the fruits ambrosial, 
Beside Life’s River; 

May the sweet, angelic chorus ravish 
My soul forever. 


EVERY YEAR. 

0N swifter wings the days are flying, 
Every year, 

And fewer hours are filled with sighing, 
Every year; 

The heavens above are growing lighter, 

And in the west the skies are brighter, 
Every year. 

Our mortal frame has less of vigor, 
Every year; 

Less strength to bear the winter’s rigor, 
Every year; 

The wrinkle on the brow grows longer, 

Death’s hold upon our bodies stronger, 
Every year. 




EVERY YEAY. 


39 


Our earthly friends grow sadly fewer, 
Every year; 

The Friend of Sinners dearer, truer, 
Every year; 

The joys of life are less endearing, 

The hope of future joy more cheering, 
Every year. 

Still more and more we see life’s errors, 
Every year; 

Yet less and less we dread death’s terrors, 
Every year; 

The promised rest beyond seems sweeter, 

The bliss of the redeemed completer. 
Every year. 

O Heaven, come a little nearer, 

Every year; 

O Christ, be to us lovelier, dearer, 

Every year; 

O G-ates of Pearl, be richer, rarer, 

O Mansions fair, be to us fairer, 

Every year. 


40 


LYDIA. 


LYDIA. 


“whose heart the lord opened. ’’ 


0ENTLE south winds o’er the meadow 
Drive away the chilling snows; 

Sunshine touches thorny bushes, 

Saying, open, beauteous rose: 

Spirit of the great Jehovah 
Life to dead souls doth impart; 

At the Master’s touch they open;— 

Thus was opened Lydia’s heart. 

Darkness, like a somber curtain, 

Doth the earth and sea enfold, 

But it vanishes when morning 
Burnishes the sky with gold: 

Quickly sin and sorrow’s darkness 
Doth from human souls depart, 

When the Son of G-od approaches;— 
Thus was opened Lydia’s heart. 


LYRICAL. 




WHAT ARE THE WINDS SAYING? 


WHAT ARE THE WINDS SAYING? 


"^JHAT are the south winds saying, 
Gently blowing over the lea? 

Do they tell the same sweet story 
To you, my friend, and me? 

Do they tell of a beauteous country, 
Where flowers perennial bloom? 
Where the spring time follows autumn, 
Without the winter’s srloom? 


What are the north winds saying, 

As they blow so fiercely and free? 
Do they tell the same sad story 
To you, my friend, and me? 

Do they tell of shivering children, 

In their want and nakedness? 

Do they tell of the poor and outcast, 
And their terrible distress? 


What are the soft winds saying, 
As they kiss the lofty tree? 

Do they tell the same glad story 
To you, my friend, and me? 

Do they tell of health and beauty 
For a sick and suffering race? 


44 


BIRTII OF THE ROSE. 


For the eye a brighter luster? 

For the face and form more grace? 

What are the wild winds saying, 

As they rave like the storm-tossed sea? 
Do they tell the same dark story 
To you, my friend, and me? 

Do they tell of hard-earned fortunes 
That vanish before their breath? 

Of desolated homes and cities? 

Of the swift-winged messenger death? 


BIRTH OF THE ROSE. 



That once in ages past, 


Upon a wild, romantic shore, 

Men blew the bugle blast, 

And soon the missies dire of war 
Were flying thick and fast. 

A little army tried and true, 

Led by a righteous knight, 

A foe that swift as eagles flew, 
They met in deadly fight, 

And no retreat the bugle blew 
Till far into the night. 


BIRTII OF THE ROSE. 


45 


The smaller army bravely fought 
For justice, truth and God; 

In conflict desperate they sought 
To hold the land they trod; 

And as in battle sore they wrought, 
Their life-blood drenched the sod. 

’Tis said that when the spring time came 
And verdure clothed the field, 

Where reddest shone the battle flame, 
And loudest clanked the shield, 

A flower sprang whose ruddy gleam 
The richest perfumes yield. 

Because ’twas like the crimson mist, 
When morning glints and glows, 

As by the early sunbeam kissed, 

And on the clouds it throws 
The amber hues of amethyst, 

They called the flower the rose. 

But let us rather say, indeed, 

That where these brave men stood, 
There was implanted holy seed, 

Wet with the crimson flooi, 

From which there sprang upon the, mead 
A flower that blushed in blood. 


46 


IN THE SHADOW. 


IN THE SHADOW. 


7J FLOWER once grew by my open door, 
As fair as a rose in May; 

It filled my heart with an untold joy 
For many a summer day. 

But a chilling blast swept by one night, 
And scattered its petals fair, 

And as they withered upon the ground, 
Imprisoned my spirit there. 

A beautiful bird in the glad spring-time 
Came near my window sill, 

And with its sweet and gladsome song 
My spirit would often thrill. 

I listened in vain for its melody 
One wintry autumn day; 

The bird had flown, and in its flight 
Had borne my soul away. 

A celestial being, sweet and rare, 

With heaven in her face, 

Enshrined herself within my heart, 

With all her wealth of grace. 

Death’s angel flew above her frame, 

It suddenly grew chill; 

And in the shadow of that wing 
My spirit lingers still 


THE WHISTLING ENGINEER. 


4 


THE WHISTLING ENGINEER. 


QOWN thro the Neosho valley 
There runs an engineer, 

With an arm that’s strong and steady, 
And a heart that knows no fear;, 

And when his train approaches 

The town where his sweet-heart dwells, 
He gives a loud, long whistle, 

And thus his presence tells. 

It may be in the morning, 

As through his gates of gold, 

The King of Day advances, 

And scatters wealth untold; 

On the fresh, free air it cometh 
To every listening ear, 

The long, long, long, shrill whistle 
Of the loving engineer. 

Perchance it is at midnight, 

When darkness like a pall, 

With many a wild, weird phantom, 

Has settled over all; 

The stillness then is broken, 

And the startled atmosphere 
Rings out with the loud, long whistle 
Of the loving engineer. 


48 


THE OLD FRONT GATE. 


No matter where the maiden, 

And whether eve or morn, 

The sound of that long whistle 
Is like the bugle horn 
Of a gallant Alpine lover; 

It fills her heart with cheer, 

And, listening to its echoes, 

Cries “There’s my engineer.” 

May many years of “running” 

Come to lover and to maid, 

May they never need a “wrecker,” 
And never run “down grade;” 

And when these two together 
Approach the other sphere, 

May it be with the long, glad whistle 
Of the loving engineer. 


THE OLD FRONT GATE. 


JjONG years ago one summer night, 
As stars shone with a gentle light, 
I leaned upon the old front gate, 

The old, old story to relate. 


THE OLD FRONT GATE. 


49 


Chorus — 

The old front gate, the old front gate, 
What sweet, sad tales you could relate; 
If you had ears and voice as well, 

What wondrous secrets you could tell. 

With love-light beaming in her eye 
More brightly than the stars on high, 

She whispered words that sealed my fate, 
As we leaned on that old front gate. 

Like things of earth thro time’s decay, 
That old front gate has passed away, 

But as the years have swiftly flown, 

Two hearts in love have stronger grown. 

And ever since that night so late, 

We’ve journeyed toward the pearly gate, 
And be the portal near or far, 

Sweet love is still our guiding star. 


’tis but a shell. 


TIS BUT A SHELL. 


^jpiS but a shell, a little shell, 

Found on the ocean’s shore, 

And yet it doth a story tell 
Of years that are po more; 

Within its folds there rings the knell 
Of happy scenes of yore. 

’Tis but a shell, a little shell, 

An uncouth, tiny thing, 

Yet hidden memories in it dwell, 

That to my eyelids bring 
Unbidden tears that upward well 
Within my heart’s deep spring. 

’Tis but a shell, a little shell, 

That brings the image rare 
Of one whose beauty doth excel 
The fairest of the fair; 

Her name within my heart doth dwell, 
But breathes not on the air. 

Oh, little shell, you moan the knell 
Of buried hopes to me; 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE. 


51 


Oh, Time, the bitter past dispel; 

Heartless as you was she, 

Whom I loved fondly and too well, 
When blind and could not see. 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE. 


AS SUNG BY THE CLASS OF TEN GIRLS OF 1894, 
CHETOPA HIGH SCHOOL. 

^OME, listen to my tale 
Which I will now relate, 

Upon that lovely theme to all, 

The sweet girl graduate; 

She may be somewhat dull, 

She may be very tame, 

But on Commencement Day, my boys, 

She gets there just the same. 

Chorus — 

The sweet girl graduate, 

So fair and bright and free, 

She’ll cheer our hearts and bless our homes, 
In the years that are to be. 


52 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE. 


We’ve conjugated verbs, 

In every tense and mood, 

Except perhaps the single one 
Whose object is the dude; 

For him we have no use, 

In any mood or tense, 

We much prefer real gentlemen, 
Who have a little sense. 

We’ve learned this big, round earth 
To circumnavigate, 

And in the future we may reach 
The matrimonial state; 

We have each other pledged 
And all are under ban, 

That we will never, never wed 
Until—we find a man. 

In problems we have solved 
In our old algebra, 

X stood for the unknown quantity, 
To find it was no play; 

In life’s deep problems too, 

As o’er each page we scan, 

One factor is to us unknown, 

It is—the coming man. 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE. 


53 


But let this personage 
Come early or come late, 

We have true hearts and spirits brave, 
Prepared for any fate, 

And ready to respond 
To every duty’s call, 

And will not pout, lament or cry, 

If no man comes at all. 

In life’s great desert waste, 

Sweet springs are to be won, 

And lofty mountains to be climbed 
Before the set of sun. 

If we should fail to reach 

Life’s ladder’s topmost round, 

Upon the side of truth and right 
May we be always found. 

So let the night be long, ^ 

Or let the day be dear, 

And smiles upon our faces fair, 

Or in the eye a tear; 

We’ll learn and labor on, 

As we have now begun, 

Until the Master says to us 
The blessed words “Well done.” 


54 


WHENCE AND HOW. 


WHENCE AND HOW? 


0 ID it come in the whispering breeze, 
Or in dreams in the hush of night; 

At the hour of declining day, 

Or the first rising blush of light? 

Did a fairy the message bear, 

When no one of earth was near, 

And brushing my locks away, 

Gently whisper it in m} r ear? 

Did a seraph on joyful wing 

Come near me when wrapped in sleep, 

And vision the secret sweet— 

Too sweet for me ever to keep? 

Did the touch of an angel’s wing 
Fan the mists from before my eyes, 

And permit me look on the one 

Who will be my heart’s richest prize? 

r Tis a mystery whence it come, 

And how the glad news became known 

This one thing I know—I am lost in love 
And my heart is no longer its own. 


A SONG. 


55 


A SONG. 


<cgTILL true to you”— 

The moon is shining and fast declining, 
Far in the west; 

My head reposing, half wake, half dozing, 
Upon her breast; 

Her heart keeps beating, and e’er repeating 
“Still true to you.” 


“Still true to you”— 

Sweet voices singing, to both hearts bringing 
A holy spell; 

Yet something nearer I hear, and dearer 
Than chiming bell; 

Her heart still beating and e’er repeating 
“Still true to you.” 

“Still true to you”— 

Still sinking, sinking, the moon is drinking 
From yonder sea; 

And hushed the voices, but still rejoices 
That one with me, 

Whose heart’s soft beating is e’er repeating 
“Still true to you.” 


56 


TO MY BELOVED. 


TO MY BELOVED. 


jpHE winds are blowing, blowing, blowing, 
Swiftly to the north they flee; 

Blustering winds whilst thou art going, 

Bear a message true for me. 

As thou art flying, flying, flying, 

Rapidly o’er wood and lea, 

Seek the door of one that’s sighing, 

Sighing while away from me. 

Upon the wings that bear thee, bear thee, 
Far unto the polar sea, 

Take the message I prepare thee, 

For the one so dear to me. 

Oh, tell her that I love her, love her, 

With a love that ne’er shall cease; 

And that only One above her 

Brings to me more, joy and peace. 

Oh, tell her that I am longing, longing, 

For a glimpse of her dear face; 

In my heart are thronging, thronging, 
Thoughts of her sweet love and grace. 


THE YEAR IS OLD. 


57 


Oh, tell her I am sighing, sighing, 

For the rapture of her kiss, 

And my heart is crying, crying, 

Since bereft of bliss like this. 

Oh, tell her I am lonely, lonely, 

Lonely almost to distress, 

And that she alone, she only 
Can dispel this loneliness. 

Ye gentle winds keep winging, winging, 
Ever northward on your way; 

When you find her then keep singing 
Of my love the live-long day. 


THE YEAR IS OLD. 


JJ^HE year is old, and its heart is cold, 
And the frost is in its breath; 

Its form is bent, and its strength is spent, 
And it totters on to its death. 


58 


THE YEAR IS OLD. 


The flowers of spring no longer fling 
Their fragrance upon the breeze; 

And all day long there is no song 
Of bird in the waving trees. 

The autumn plain, with its wealth of grain, 
Is now all barren and brown; 

Clouds angry and dun obscure the sun, 

And wear on their face a frown. 

Fast falls the snow, and fierce winds blow, 
With misery in their train; 

Till creation groans, and old earth moans 
In an agony of pain. 

Yes, the year is old, and its heart is cold, 
All its joys have fled away; 

Oh, haste thee, Spring, on joyful wing, 
With a brighter, happier day. 


PERSONAL. 








SUSAN M. BEDELL. 


61 


SUSAN M. BEDELL. 


ON HER WEDDING DAY. 


jpHE frost is on the heather, 
The snow is on the hill, 

Without is wintry weather, 

The winds are sharp and chill, 

But in the heart of Susan 
The sunshine lingers still. 

Near Hymen’s sacred altar 
She stands in love’s repose; 

Her spirit does not falter, 

Her eyes no fear dislose; 

Her brow is like the lily, 

Her cheek is like the rose. 

She gives her richest treasure— 
The love of one true heart; 

A love that knows no measure;' 
Artful, yet void of art; 

In coming years may trouble 
Ne’er touch her with its smart. 


62 


MR. AND MRS. H.‘ M’BIRNEY. 


The one who stands beside her 
Has found a jewel rare; 

Let weal or woe betide her, 

Be weather foul or fair, 

No harm can touch a jewel 
A manly heart doth wear. 

Then Frost, stay on the heather, 
And Snow, lie on the hill; 
Howl on, ye wintry Weather, 
And blow, ye Winds so chiil, 
But in the heart of Susan 
Let sunshine linger still. 


REV. AND MRS. H. M’BIRNEY. 

ON THEIR SILVER WEDDING DAY. 

71 SOUND comes over the sea to day, 

' A sound comes over the sea; 

A chime of silvery wedding bells, 

As they ring out over the lea. 

It is but the echo we hear to day, 

An echo from over the sea; 

The distant echo of wedding chimes 
That is borne to you and me. 


MR. AND MRS. H. m’bIRNEY. 


63 


It tells of a gladsome summer day, 

In a cottage over the sea, 

When two young hearts were together joined 
Forevermore one to be. 

It tells of many a happy year 
Since that glad day over the sea, 

Bright years of sunshine and joy, but not 
From shadows and sorrows free. 

Just five and twenty short years ago, 

In that island over the sea, 

By gentle, loving and careful hands, 

Was planted this family tree. 

But in after years there came a time, 

When across the deep blue sea, 

The parent stock was transplanted here, 

In this goodly land of the free. 

It flourished here as it flourished there, 

In the green isle over the sea; 

But some of the buds dropped from the stem 
Of this noble family tree. 

Transplanted have these fair buds been 
Beyond the crystal sea, 

And in the Eden of God on high 
More beautiful far to be. 


64 


DR. AND MRS. F. K. REAM. 


And when our Father shall beckon to you 
To cross the unknown sea, 

May your glad eyes in the better land 
Again your loved ones see. 

A sound comes over the sea to day, 

An echo comes over the sea; 

Oh, may its music together blend 
With the chimes of eternity. 


DR. AND MRS. F. K. REAM. 


ON THEIR WEDDING DAY. 


ypHE day was done, and the dew drops 
Reflected the stars above, 

As the light of the tender passion 
Is mirrored in eyes of love. 

As I watched the fading glory 
Of the slowly receding day, 

Two stars appeared in the azure 
Of brilliant yet diverse ray. 


DR. AND MRS. F. K. REAM. 


The one some what Mars-tinted, 

Yet milder by far in hue; 

With a pure, white light the other 
Shone steadily and true 

Months passed, and again at even 
Their light on my pathway streamed 

And as I gazed intently 
Each nearer the other seemed. 

As months succeeded each other 
They nearer and nearer came, 

Until they seemed in my vision 
Twin-born in form and flame. 

The one no longer sparkled 
With its fitful, fiery gleam; 

The other had lost its whiteness 
In a milder, softer beam. 

And ever now as I watch them, 

As they shine when the day is done, 

The old time flame and splendor 
Are mingled into one. 

For years and aye forever, 

In the world’s abysmal night, 

May this new star shine upon us, 

With an ever increasing light. 


66 


REV. W. W. CURNUTT. 


REV. W. W. CURNUTT. 


DIED MAR. 8, 1889 . 


Jj^HOU servant of the living God, 
Thou preacher of the Word, 
Thy work is done, go to thy rest, 
Receive thy great reward. 


Thy voice that spoke in thrilling tones 
The words of life and love, 

Now mingles with the angel choir. 
Around God’s throne above. 


To our dull ears thy voice is hushed 
In long unanswering death, 

And yet its echoes sweetly come 
On many a gentle breath. 

It speaks to us of faith, and hope, 
And victory thro love, 

And gently beckons us away 
To fairer realms above. 


Oh, faithful servant of the Lord, 
Oh, preacher, true and bold, 

May we in gladness grasp thy hand 
Upon the streets of gold. 


JOHN. H. DERSHAM. 


67 


Upon thy fellow-workers here 
The dim stars still look down; 
Upon thy brow shine brighter stars 
Forever in thy crown. 


JOHN H. DERSHAM. 

DIED MAY 25 , 1892 . 

"^JITH clearer ray 

The sun shone out that wintry morn, 
And joy came with the dawning day, 
When unto us a son was born. 

His pattering feet 
Made gentle echoes in the home— 

A music unto us more sweet 
Than rises to cathedral dome. 

We watched him grow 
From childhood to man’s high estate, 
With all the joy love could bestow, 

And with a care importunate. 

Oh, think ye not, 

In this dark hour of deep distress, 

A Heavenly Father has forgot 
To sympathize, sustain and bless. 


68 


RUTH DURBORAW. 


Our love! our loss! 

With tear-dimmed eye we faintly see, 
Beholding Calvary rugged cross, 
The Father’s love and agony. 


RUTH DURBORAW. 

DIED FEB. 12 , 1892 . 

ON angel came to our home aud hearts, 

^ An angel in very truth, 

In spirit-nature, and form, and face, 

And we named this angel Ruth. 

She could not tell us from whence she came, 
But her eyes the secret told, 

As they sparkled with light ineffable 
That fills the City of Cold. 

But dark was the night that came to us, 
When we lost this darling one; 

When the light within those angel eyes 
Went out with the sinking sun. 

She never learned the language of earth, 
While unto us she was given; 

Her angel tongue will only use 
The sweeter speech of heaven. 


JEROME J. LOWDERMILK. 


69 


She never sang the discordant notes 
That to our earth belong; 

But forever amid the heavenly choirs 
She will sing Redemption’s song. 

The gleaner’s body now lowly lies, 
And moulders beneath the sod; 

But the angel Ruth will forever glean 
In the Paradise of God. 


JEROME J. LOWDERMILK. 

DIED MAY 2 , 1893 . 

L IS voice is hushed; 

It charms in songs of earth no more; 
God summoned him to join the choir 
Seraphic on the other shore. 

He sang of heaven: 

The glory that awaits us there; 

To day that glory he beholds, 

With eyes undimmed by time or care. 

For those who lost, 

Our burning tears in silence flow; 

We share with them the bitter pain, 
But cannot measure all their woe. 


0 


JOHN ALEXANDER LOUGH. 


God knoweth best; 

He sees the future as the past; 

In heaven’s light earth’s mysteries 
Will be revealed to all at last. 

With mournful hearts 
We laid him tenderly to rest; 

Let nature weave a beauteous garb 
Of green and gold above his breast. 

As springs return 

With song of bird and flowers sweet, 
Let loving hands strew violets 
Above his head, above his feet. 


JOHN ALEXANDER LOUGH. 
DIED FEB. 6, 1894. 

0H, man of simple, steadfast faith, 
Go to thy rest; 

Thy heart was true to self and God, 
Now thou art blest. 

Sweetly thy spirit doth repose 
In heaven’s calm; 

And in the hand upraised in praise, 
A waving palm. 


JOHN ALEXANDER LOUGH. 


71 


For many years he trod the path 
That brighter grows, 

And only ends where pearly gates 
Behind him close. 

His sympathies were broad and deep 
For all the race; 

No love of caste, or pride of life 
In him found place. 

Upon his breast that heaves no more 
Now cross his hands; 

Their cunning suddenly has ceased— 
God understands. 

Oh, Soul, no longer bound to earth, 
In triumph sing, 

Oh, Grave, where is thy victory? 
Where, Death, thy sting? 


KATHLEEN m’BIRNEY. 


KATHLEEN M'BIRNEY. 


DIED OCT. 24 , 1895 . 


QEAR, sweet Kathleen! 

Death’s sickle keen 
Hath cut this flower fair. 

That grew in grace and beauty rare 
Earth’s coarser grain between: 

Alas, Kathleen. 

Dear, rare Kathleen, 

So sweet hath been 
Thy life while here on earth, 

Into our hearts thy death brings dearth 
Of joy and sorrows keen, 

Darling Kathleen. 

Dear, fair Kathleen, 

The grasses green 
Shall wave above thy grave; 

The Lord hath taken—’twas he who gave; 
Upon his arm we lean, 

And mourn, Kathleen. 


PRESTON B. PLUMB. 


73 


Dear, pure Kathleen, 

Thy soul serene 
Abides beneath the wings 
Of cherubs, and exults, and sings, 
Mid joys before unseen; 
Happy Kathleen. 


PRESTON B. PLUMB. 


0H, man of strong, indomitable will, 

Oh, friend of earnest, sympathetic heart, 
Oh, statesman, void of politician’s art, 

Oh, patriot, mid the unfaithful, loyal still, 
Who now his honored place can take and fill? 
In country, or in city’s busy mart, 

Can any where be found his counterpart? 

A man thro whose great spirit went a thrill 
At tale of woe, whose very life was spent 
For good of all; who with an open hand 
His kindly benefactions ever lent. 

The hearts and homes of many thro the land 
For him are with an unfeigned sorrow rent, 
Whose name will o ’er his compeers ever stand. 


4 


PROF. T. A. JEFFERS. 


PROF. T. A. JEFFERS. 


7T LL honor to this Son of Song, 

^ An Orpheus true amid the throng 
Of music loving mortals; 

He fills us with a new born hope, 

And with his music lifts us up 
Nearer the pearly portals. 

No sweetly singing siren he, 

Who with seductive minstrelsy, 

Allures but to destroy; 

The concord of his heavenly strains, 
Like angel songs on Bethlehem’s plains, 
Fills hearts with rapturous joy. 

There’s music in his form and face, 

The harmony of celestial grace, 

The poetry of motion; 

H is voice is sometimes soft and low, 

As when the vesper breezes blow, 

Then thunders like the ocean. 

Go on, thou Son of Song and Love, 
Make earth more like the world above 
Where music is divine; 

And may the joy thou dost impart 


ISABEL. 


< 


To many a weary, drooping heart, 
Be ever richly thine. 


ISABEL. 


’j^JOULD you love her you must know her 
And in loving feel the spell, 

Breathing thro her name when spoken— 
Isabel. 


All that’s beautiful in woman, 
All that’s pure and true as well, 
Center in her tranquil spirit— 
Isabel. 


Summer lingers in her presence, 
Nor can winter’s clouds dispel 
All the sunlight of her being— 
Isabel. 


All her life is autumn fruitage, 

And its largess none can tell; 

Only those whose lives she blesses— 
Isabel. 


Looking in her eyes so tender, 

As into a dark, deep well, 

Heaven’s light j^ou there behold in— 
Isabel. 


ADDA AND LOTTIE. 


76 

Now and thro eternal ages 
Angels round about her dwell; 

Heaven guard, and guide, and keep her— 
Isabel. 


ADD A AND LOTTIE. 

U THE HEAVENLY TWINS.” 


meet me oft with bounding glee, 
And smiling face and heart as free 
As any bird in forest tree— 

The heavenl} 7 twins. 


Who turn my night to glorious day, 

And chase my sadness all away. 

While neath their laughter’s charming sway 
The heavenly twins. 


Who startle me with wild alarms, 

Then compass me with loving arms, 

And win my heart with childhood’s charms 
The heavenly twins. 


Rare blessings on each heart and head, 
And in the ways that they are led 
May sin and sorrow never tread— 
Sweet heavenly twins. 


IN LIGHTER VEIN. 




ORIGIN OF FASHIONS. 


79 


ORIGIN OF FASHIONS. 


JN Eden lived a woman fair, 

Of form and grace and beauty rare. 
Who had a longing to be wise, 

As well as fair in Adam’s eyes; 

And, listening to the tempter's voice, 
She made, alas, the fatal choice, 

Which brought in sin and all our woes, 
And chief among them wearing clothes. 
Alas, alas, the untold evil 
Of being too friendly with the devil. 

And yet dear Adam did not chide her. 
But chose to linger still beside her; 

Of course he did, for then, forsooth, 
When our forefather was a youth, 

In all the world there was but one 
Lone woman, and twas she or none, 
And she, I’d have you understand, 

The loveliest lady in the land. 

Tho Adam had no mother wit 
He wisely made the best of it, 


80 


ORIGIN OF FASHIONS. 


And showed good sense, as every one knows, 
In getting for his wife some clothes; 

And worldly fashions here began, 

With woman first, and then with man. 

Eve’s garb was simple—fig leaves sewn 
Together in a way her own. 

Unlike the one on Madison square, 

Poor woman, who had nothing to wear. 

Our mother Eve, as leaves decay, 

Must have a change of dress each day. 

And she, first lady of the land, 

Most certainly must understand 
The blandishments and arts of dress 
That would enhance her loveliness. 

Tis true there only was one man 
The beauty of her garb to scan, 

Yet she alone is thoroughly good 
Who’s true to her own womanhood; 

And tho she had the primal right 
To him who loved her at first sight, 

She ever used the woman’s art 
To hold the love of Adam’s heart. 

This truth is plainly seen perforce, 

Because he never sought divorce. 

Thus day by day her dress, no doubt, 

Was ornamented round about 
With flounces, frills, and furbelows, 


ORIGIN OF FASHIONS. 


81 


And scollops fine, and finer bows; 

Some times cut bias, and some times gored, 
Yet never scrimped, but always scored. 
Perhaps she also puffed her sleeves 
With Eden’s biggest fig tree leaves 

How tame was life—our mother Eve’s— 
With only raiment made of leaves. 

True to her sex, don’t think it strange, 

Her woman’s heart cried for a change. 

This fig-leaf suit, ’tis known to all, 
Originated in the “Fall,” 

And when the weather colder grew, 

And northern blasts around them blew, 
Dear Eve on Adam cast a smile, 

And asked him for a change of style, 

And Adam, like a noble spouse, 

Ne’er knit a wrinkle on his brows, 

But sallied forth with bow in hand, 

And wandered thro the forest land, 

And animals, in protest mute, 

Were slain to make Eve’s winter suit. 

And ever since that fatal day, 

It has been man’s delight to slay 
The beast within his forest lair, 

And bird that wings its flight in air, 

That to fair woman’s form and face 
There might be added charm and grace. 


82 


ORIGIN OF FASHIONS. 


We do not know what all she wore, 

What jewels rare she had in store; 

Or how she dressed her auburn hair, 
Braided or banged or curled with care; 

Or if she had a seal skin sacque, 

Or monstrous bustle on her back. 

One thing by inference we may know, 

She had, when wed, no fine trousseau. 

We cannot think she would descend 
To “kangaroo stoop,” or “Greecian bend.” 
She had enough of natural bent 
That Adam’s rib to her had lent. 

We will not say a bent to evil, 

For that would exculpate the devil. 

She was a lady highly born, 

Or rather made, creation’s morn, 

And apish ways would surely scorn; 

And yet, and yet a woman, she, 

With woman’s art in high degree, 

For see how easy ’twas to win 
Poor Adam to her ways of sin. 

But various disadvantages 
Beset her in those early days; 

And first we note there was for her 
No modiste or milliner; 

No magazines with fashion plates 
Of gorgeous hats on empty pates; 


ORIGIN OF FASHIONS. 


83 


She had no neighbors o’er the way 
To vie with her in fine array; 

No church at which to show her bonnet, 
With flowers, and birds, and ribbons on it; 
She never went to theaters, 

And heard the low, insulting jeers 
Of men who right behind her sat, 

And growled at her cathedral hat. 

Nor did dear Adam ever scold, 

At least it never has been told, 

And give his wife a look to kill, 

When he received her milliner’s bill. 

Oh, happy husband! happy wife! 

To live thus without jar or strife. 

In course of time old Adam died, 

And Eve, poor Eve, she sighed and cried; 
No husband now, oh, cruel fate, 

To tell her when her hat was straight 

In history, sacred or profane, 

No one has made the matter plain, 

How Eve, good mother of our race, 

W~ent to her final resting place. 

Tis likely she was carried away 
W T ith some new fashion of the day. 

All honor to our mother Eve; 

She’s been long dead, we will not grieve. 


84 


KEEP A STIFF UPPER LIP. 


She had her virtues, not a few; 

She set the fashions, we pursue; 

She may have made some sad mistakes; 
She may have followed fads and fakes; 
The devil may have made her vain; 

And she it was who first “raised Cain.” 
She was our mother, and no shrew; 
Then let us give her all her due. 
Remember this, she never ran 
From Adam with a handsomer man; 
She never sang the bass in tunes; 

She never wore the pantaloons. 


KEEP A STIFF UPPER LIP. 


TF hard luck your spirit is riling, 

Just face the old world all a-smiling— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

If your pocket is empty don’t blow it, 

If your feelings are wounded don’t show it, 
If gloomy let nobody know it,— 

Keep a stiff upper lip. 

If tears come pull out your bandanna, 

As you dry them just sing a hosanna— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 



KEEP A STIFF UPPER LIP. 


85 


If your sky is all clouded with sorrow, 

There comes soon a brighter to-morrow, 

Just lend all your trouble, don’t borrow— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

If your clothing is tattered and torn, 

’Tis a worse thing to look all forlorn— 

Keep a stiff upper lip. 

Let your spirits be happy and free, 

Then the people who meet you won’t see 
The old hat or the patch on your knee— 

Keep a stiff upper lip. 

If at a swift gait you’ve been running 
To escape from a fellow that’s dunning— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

Let me tell you ’tis better to chase him, 

And coming up boldly to face him, 

Than cross o’er the street and thus pass him— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

If you have been pacing the floor 
O’er your debts till your feet are all sore— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

Let the other man pace it awhile, 

Until he is ready to smile, 

And give you another fair trial— 

Keep a stiff upper lip. 




86 


LA GRIPPE. 


If times become harder and harder, 

And there’s only a crust in the larder— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

Tho the sheriff grabs hold of your collar, 
And threatens to take your last dollar, 
Don’t whine like a baby, and “holler' 1 — 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

If you’re honest, and faithful, and true, 
Your friends will be faithful to you— 
Keep a stiff upper lip. 

Don't cheat, don’t be tricky, don't lie, 
And never, no, never say die, 

Keep heaven and hope in your eye— 


Keep a stiff upper lip. 


LA GRIPPE. 


there comes a little yawning 
And a stretching of the limbs; 
Then a little watery humor 

Seeping from the eyelids’ rims. 



Afterwards there comes an aching 
And a quaking in the back, 




Just as if a huge pile driver 
Had come at you with a whack. 





LA GRIPPE 


87 


Then the pains run thro your body 
With a terrible momentum— 

Jumping, tearing and cavorting 
Like a very imp had sent ’em. 

Cold you are as any iceberg 

Till you wish you were in—well— 

In a region that is hotter 

Than the one in which you dwell. 

All the time while aching, groaning, 
Heed you must give to your nose; 

You may strive to keep it quiet, 

But it blows and blows and blows, 

Till a cyclone of disaster 
Fills its cavities within, 

And your head is racked and roaring 
With an everlasting din. 

Then you tumble, toss and grumble 
As upon your bed you lie, 

Till in agony you wonder 

Why the Lord won’t let you die. 

Feelings deep of utter meanness, 

(I’m not talking thro my hat,) 

Strike you, like the sad experience 
Of a populist democrat. 


TELL ME. YE KANSAS WINDS. 


Tell me not of Job the patriarch, 

Of his boils and loss of sheep, 

Of his wife’s exasperation. 

What were all these to La Grippe? 

I have had the “third day ager” 

And the fever, high and low, 

Till the doctor sadly whispered, 

11 ’Tis, I think, his time to go.” 

All the ills that flesh is heir to, 

Piled up in a single heap, 

Then poured in the human body— 
This is genuine La Grippe. 

Give me all the other microbes 

That thro bodies squirm and creep, 
But deliver from the impish 

Microbes of the “tarnal” Grippe. 


TELL ME, YE KANSAS WINDS, 
me, ye Kansas winds 



That round my pathway blow, 
Is there nowhere a spot 
Where mortal man may go; 

No island in the sea, 

No quiet, foreign clime, 


TELL ME, YE KANSAS WINDS. 


89 


Where spring time comes without 
The dire house-cleaning time? 

A cyclone struck me with terrific blow, 

And hurled me forty rods asdt resounded “No. " 

Oh, gentle birds that wing 
Far to the south your flight, 

Do you not know some land 
Of loveliness and light, 

Where beds are never sunned, 

And carpets are not “beat, ” 

Where “stretchers” are not known, 

And tacks don’t prick your feet? 

A large, dark bird then flew off with a “caw,” 
And answered with a gruff, disdainful “Naw. ” 

And thou resplendent moon, 

Sweet empress of the night, 

In whose mellifluous beams 
All lovers take delight, 

Do you not know a place— 

Some country east or west, 

Where from house-cleaning man, 

Poor man, can get a rest? 

The moon then paler grew, and answered slow, 
As from behind a cloud it whispered “No.” 

Oh, sweetener of my joys, 

My other, better self, 


90 


THE EDITOR’S CHAIR. 


Thou who hast sworn to share 
My poverty or pelf, 

Do you not know some spot, 

On seen or unseen shore, 

Where these house-cleaning days 
Shall come again no more? 

‘‘Yes, yes,” she said, “these tacks here must be driven 
You’ll find that place sometime—perhaps—in heaven.” 


THE EDITOR’S CHAIR. 


J LOVE it, I love it, and who shall dare 
To chide me for loving the editor’s chair? 
In the early days ’twas an old pine box, 

And, wearing jeans pants and curly locks, 
The editor sat, with a fire in his eye, 

That would roast a foe, or paint red the sky. 
And spirits evil and spirits rare 
Moved men as now in the editor’s chair. 

The pine box seat of ye olden time, 

With its many splotches of ink and grime, 
Has disappeared. In a fit of ire 
The “devil” used it to kindle the fire; 

And in its place is an easy chair, 

Upholstered with springs and plush and hair, 


I RNEW IT WOULD RAIN. 


91 


But soft or hard ’tis a royal throne, 

And no base fellow should sit thereon, 

Oh, the editor’s chair is an easy seat, 

With a desk in front for his ample feet, 
Whereon he places them high in air, 

In a way not entirely debonair. 

He writes of markets, finance and stocks, 
Of statesmen with and without any socks; 
Sometimes a drop of his pearly ink 
Will make a million men stop and think. 

I love it, I love it, the editor’s chair, 

For the noble men, so true and rare, 

Who now, as in the days long ago, 

With pen and pencil, work overthrow 
To ancient wrong and to modern sin, 
Without war’s terrible ravage and din. 
Unfading laurels should they ever wear, 
Who worthily sit in the editor’s chair. 


I KNEW IT WOULD RAIN. 

J KNEW it would rain, for all day long 
The flies were biting my head and ears, 
Those aural appendages made for song, 

That head laid bare by the barber’s shears. 


92 


CAUSE AND EFFECT. 


I knew it would rain, for all day long 

My rheumatic knee gave trouble and pain; 
And the corns barometrical on my toes, 

Like rain-crow birds, kept crying “rain. ” 

I knew it would rain, for all day long 

I dolefully sighed for a “mother hubbard;” 
I cared not a fig for her hungry dog, 

Nor how bare and empty was her cupboard. 

I knew it would rain, for all day long 
The perspiration rolled from my brow, 

As I wrote—but hark! Just behold the dust! 
“I told you so;” it is raining now. 


Cause and effect. 


’ jpWAS only some berries—the goose— 
Growing near the garden wall; 

A boy found the berries—the goose— 
And ate them, the large and small. 

At midnight a cry was raised, 

That grew to a terrible squall— 

That boy wished he never had seen 
Those berries—the goose—at all. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 







FAITH, HOPE, LOVE. 


95 


FAITH, HOPE. LOVE. 


pAITH is a star that with unsullied ray 
Shines on, invisible to man by day, 

But when the darkness comes, its welcome light 
Brings Hope to human hearts in nature’s night; 

It gives light freely, as the One above 
Bestows good gifts to man, and this is Love. 

Faith is a flower springing from the sod, 

With face turned ever toward the light of G-od; 
When beaten to the earth by storm and rain, 

'Tis Hope that lifts it toward the sun again; 

It fills its mission if it but imparts 
A Love of beauty unto human hearts. 

Faith is a bird that on unfettered wings 
Mounts upward ever and exultant sings; 

While Hope beams brightly from its upturned eye, 
In quest of visions that beyond it lie; 

Its flight is tireless till in realms above 
It nestles in the eternal heart of Love. 


96 


THE BROTHERHOOD OF MAN. 


THE BROTHERHOOD OF MAN. 


QIOGENES, the cynic, 

One day was seen alone, 

In deepest meditation, 

And in each hand a bone; 

And as with piercing vision, 

He both did closely scan, 

He learned the old, old lesson— 
The brotherhood of man. 

One bone was that of Cyrus, 

The warrior of renown; 

The other was a beggar’s 
Used to misfortune’s frown; 

No difference he discovered 
In texture or in plan; 

They taught the same great lesson 
The brotherhood of man. 

No matter what the station, 

The poverty or pelf, 

Each one upon God’s footstool 
Possesses in himself 
A something neath the surface, 
Let it be white or tan; 


THE BROTHERHOOD OF MAN. 


Which proves that he’s a member 
Of the brotherhood of man. 

He may be French or German, 

Or ignorant Hottentot, 

A Chiuaman or Negro, 

It verily matters not; 

For in their mortal members 
There runs, and ever ran, 

The same red tide that floweth 
Thro the brotherhood of man. 

One may be rich as Dives, 

With goods in plenteous store; 
The other poor as Lazarus, 

All helpless at his door; 

They have a common Father, 

Let him deny who can;— 
Belong to one great family, 

The brotherhood of man. 

Then let this truth eternal 
Sink deeply in thy soul, 

That every human being 
Is part of one great whole; 

And be he king or peasant, 

Or queen or courtesan, 

They all have lot in common 
In the brotherhood of man. 


98 


soldiers’ reunion greeitng. 


My dearest friends and brothers, 
In earthly toil and strife, 

We’re each and all another’s 
In being and in life; 

To help a needy mortal 
We all are under ban; 

Let us be worthy members 
Of the brotherhood of man. 


SOLDIERS’ REUNION GREETING. 


J^LL honor to the true and brave 

Who grandly fought and nobly fell; 
Their lives’ best years and blood they gave 
To save the land they loved so well. 


To day they come in numbers few 
To tell the tales of civil war; 

To that old flag they still are true, 
To every stripe, to every star. 


They come to talk of days gone by, 

When hearts were fainting with despair: 
When war’s red flame lit up the sky, 

And groans and curses filled the air. 


THE TWO PICTURES. 


99 


Again they see the battle’s flash, 

Again they hear the cannon’s roar; 

Again they hear the sabers crash. 

Again shout victory o’er and o’er. 

They bear upon their wasting frames 
The bullet wound, the bayonet scar; 

But on the flag’s blue field still flames, 

In purest light, each stately star. 

Forever wave thy silken bars, 

From rock-ribbed Maine to Golden Gate; 

May he who dares pluck out thy stars 
Meet speedily the felon’s fate. 


THE TWO PICTURES. 


0 AY after day I saw her sit apart, 

And with unwearied fingers ply her art. 
Sweet thought enwrapped her like a priestly stole 
A dream of beauty filled her inmost soul. 

The canvas stood before her to receive, 

And with rich hues the vision interweave. 

At first the outlines I could only see, 

Devoid of beauty and of symmetry. 


100 


THE TWO PICTURES. 


Days slowly passed, and I could faintly trace 
The form and features of a human face. 

Days grew to weeks; still patiently she toiled; 
No awkward touches had her work despoiled. 
Months passed; before the canvas now I stood, 
And saw the face of lovely womanhood. 

The blush of beauty glowed upon the cheek, 
The fervent lips seemed ready framed to speak. 
The tenderness of love beamed in the eye, 

Such as in depths of ardent souls doth lie. 
Thought’s very impress shone upon the brow, 
While over all was life’s mysterious glow. 

With deep emotions filled and thrilled I gazed, 
At human art and human skill amazed. 

This picture rare of mingled light and shade, 
Alas, with coming years will slowly fade. 

It served to beautify the soul of one, 

But wealth of soul and spirit gave to none. 

Of earth, ’tis earthy, and shall pass away, 
With sun and shadow of the passing day. 


ii. 

Before me stands another woman fair, 

Whose soul is filled with visions sweet and rare 
And she, too, strives with patient toil and art 
Rare beauty to a canvas to impart. 

Hers is the canvas of a living soul, 

And there she paints the truth as on a scroll; 



THE SOUL’S QUESTION. 


101 


Her colors, love, and tenderness, and grace, 

All find expression in her mother face. 

Day after day with wondrous tact and power, 
With wisdom that fair boy she doth endower. 

The growing beauty of his soul you trace 
In noble lineaments on his manly face. 

A holy ardor crowns his manhood’s prime 
With purposes approaching the sublime. 

Above the mass his stately presence towers; 

He sways and rules them with a master’s powers. 
The Christ-love, manifest in heart and life, 

Wins multitudes from ways of sin and strife. 
Stars of rejoicing in his crown are they, 

When he awakes on that eternal day. 

The finished work of both we now behold: 

Is not one tinsel, and the other gold? 

Who, in the light of vast eternity, 

Would rather not the mother artist be? 


THE SOUL’S QUESTION. 


QNE winter day, in pensive mood, 

I wandered thro a pathless wood. 

The earth was brown, the trees were bare: 
Decay lurked in the very air. 


102 


THE SOUL’S QUESTION. 


No flowers bloomed beneath my feet 
To charm my sense with perfume sweet. 
Not e’en a blade of grass upgrew 
To catch and drink the morning dew. 

I everywhere could plainly trace 
The marks of death on nature’s face. 

The clouds above seemed but a pall 
As they hung lowering over all. 

As thus I walked where fancy led, 

I reached the city of the dead, 

Where lie the loved of other years, 

Whose memory brings unbidden tears. 
Here lies the infant of a day, 

Beside the sire with locks of gray. 

The beggar here with Dives lies; 

The good, the bad, the fool, the wise. 

The singer here, whose voice hath thrilled 
A thousand hearts, forever stilled. 

The orator, whose mighty word 
The pent-up deep of hearts hath stirred. 
The warrior here hath met the foe 
Who conquers without spear or bow. 
Those who in life had no surcease 
Of sorrow here now find release. 

Or brief or long life’s little day, 

Here all return to common clay. 

As thus I stood with bated breath, 

Amid this scene of gloom and death, 


THE SOUL’S QUESTION. 


103 


My heart was filled with questionings 
Of life’s diviner, deeper things. 

When comes again the southland breeze, 
Will it awake to life these trees? 

Will e’er again this scene of gloom 
Be radiant with the flowers’ bloom? 

Out from the earth, now cold and bare, 

Will roses spring, and lilies fair? 

And as I looked upon the grave 
Of coward wretch, or soldier brave, 

Of noble sire, or prodigal son, 

Of those who lost, or those who won, 

My spirit asked: Why all this strife, 

If this is all there is of life? 

If this is all, what boots it then 
What we shall be, dumb brutes, or men? 

Months passed. Again I took my way 
The same as on that wintry day. 

The earth in verdure now was dressed, 

The gentle breeze my cheek caressed. 

And beauteous flowers with fragrance sweet, 
Bedecked the pathway of my feet. 

Now every passing breeze and breath 
Gave proof of life and joy—not death. 

Life potent life, was everywhere, 

In blooming earth, in gladsome air 
Again I went among the dead, 


104 


THE SOUL S QUESTION. 


With hopeful heart, but silent tread. 

I there beheld a little mound, 

With bluebells and with daisies crowned. 
O'er one who died in youth’s bright glow, 
There bloomed a lily fair as snow. 

Above the faithful wife, and true, 

The myrtle with its pale flower grew. 

Near those whose lives went out in blood, 
The laurel and the bay tree stood. 

And over many a loved one’s grave, 

The boughs of weeping willows wave. 

As thus I stood, there seemed to fall 
A charmed silence over all. 

A still small voice I seemed to hear, 

That only reached my spirit’s ear. 

I am, it said, spite reason’s strife, 

The Resurrection and the Life; 

As I have risen these shall rise, 

And go with me to yonder skies. 

For these the ransom price I paid; 

For these the mansions fair are made. 

Those who have washed their robes in white 
Shall walk with me in heaven’s light; 

And live and love in endless day, 

Where God shall wipe all tears away. 


BEREAVED. 


BEREAVED. 


J SAW him pass my door, 

A man of full four score, 

With feeble steps and slow; 

He spoke in accents low 
Of loved ones gone before. 

A tear was in my eye, 

And in my heart a sigh, 

As visions of the lost 
Athwart my memory crossed, 

As he passed slowly by. 

A wife of temper mild, 

An only, much loved child, 

Had gone to mansions fair; 

Yet, hiding his despair, 

When walking by he smiled. 

I saw him one day where 
The people meet for prayer; 
When tender words were said 
For those who mourned the dead, 
There fell a silent tear. 


106 


“ye did it unto me.” 


Day after day he seems 
As one who only dreams 
Of sweet, sad memories, 

And only casts his eyes 
Toward sunset’s fading gleams. 

The splash of muffled oar 
He’ll hear soon near the shore, 
And then he’ll sail away 
To spend an endless day 
With loved ones gone before. 


“YE DID IT UNTO ME.” 


J'NTO the city’s highways 
A noble woman came, 

And in its slums and by-ways 
She wrought in Jesus’ name. 

Her heart went out in pity 
To children mid the snare 
Of sin in that great city, 
Without a mother’s care. 


“ye did it unto me.” 


107 


Upon her path of duty 

The light of heaven fell down, 

Revealing gems of beauty 
To deck her Master’s crown. 

In wretchedness she found them, 
In hovel and in street; 

She gently threw around them 
Love’s mantle warm and sweet. 

One day a burning fever 
Seized on her body frail, 

While ministering over 
A sufferer thin and pale. 

The fever soon was broken, 

But ere its work was done, 

Its mark left as a token 
Sweet sacrifice had won. 

Her friends could see the traces 
Of bitter, burning tears; 

She saw love in their faces, 

But heard not with her ears. 

Tho deaf to all earth’s voices, 

Its words of cheer and love, 

Her chastened soul rejoices 
In whisperings from above. 


108 I THANK THEE, O MY FATHER. 

And sweeter than a mother’s 
The words of Christ will be,— 
“Ye did it unto others— 

Ye did it unto me. ’’ 

Some day in realms eternal, 

Will break upon her ears, 

The songs of choirs supernal, 
The music of the spheres. 


I THANK THEE, O MY FATHER. 


p|OR the wonders of thy love 
That my inmost being move; 
For the riches of thy grace, 

As my life I now retrace, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 


For the nurture of the home 
Where no evil thing could come; 
For the guiding light of truth, 
In the dawning days of youth, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 



I THANK THEE, O MY FATHER. 


109 


For the strength that ever came 
When life’s noon was all aflame; 

For the Friend that still was true 
When life’s burdens heavier grew, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 

For the peace that rules my breast, 
When the sun turns toward the west, 
And the joy, and, love, and praise, 
Added with its lengthening rays, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 

For the thorns along my path, 

Given in love and not in wrath; 

For the flowers beside the way, 

Tho they bloomed but one brief day, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 

For the weary years of toil, 

With their cold, and heat, and moil; 
For their loss, and woe, and pain, 
And the chastened spirit’s gain, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 

For the One who came to save, 

And who triumphed o’er the grave; 
For the home beyond the skies, 

Thro his death and sacrifice, 

I thank thee, O my Father. 





























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